


Snow Bride

by sara2117



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fake Dating, Gen, Hallmark Movie, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5984308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara2117/pseuds/sara2117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*This is a original twist of a movie by same name* </p><p>Felicity Smoak, a reporter for Starling City's Pulse Magazine, prides herself on finding the truth, writing it, and reporting it. Sadly her boss doesn't, the man preferring idle gossip; and after years under his influence she too finds herself slipping. With the company going under she can promptly see her chances of ever being the reporter she set out to be fading away, that is until her boss makes an offer: Find out who of the two billionaires- Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn- is getting engaged and get handed a promotion, spearheading the new online division. It should be easy, after all she's an expert at finding what people want to keep hidden. What Felicity didn't count on however was a nosy ex, a tumble down a mountain. faking a relationship...and most certainly not falling in love with one of the subjects of her investigation. It's one big mess. The real question is: can she find her way out of it with her heart in tact?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! It's been awhile. I appreciate so many of you checking in on me. The truth is I haven't really been all that inspired to write despite my love of it. I actually started this story in November of '15, and unfortunately got sick for a while and never got to finish it. After a conversation with my amazing friend Emily, (LongliveFelicitytheQueen) I found in me a desire to write, one I haven't had in awhile, so after a quick post on Tumblr asking how many would be interested in a Christmas themed story in February-many were in favor-, I got to work. This story is already completely written, though I may make a few tweaks and I do so hope you all will enjoy it. I had fun writing it. It's not as deep, or long as my usual works but it was great for me getting back in the swing of things. I love you all and again, thank you for your support.

* * *

 

Felicity Smoak was an ordinary woman with an extraordinary talent. She was the best investigative writer at the Starling City Pulse, all thanks to her degree in Computer Science. Well, at least that's what she liked to think. Her boss Sebastian Blood had noticed her talent but as of yet had done nothing to let her prove her worth. If she'd anticipated how competitive working for a magazine company would be she might have gone a different direction with her career. Felicity tossed that thought aside as soon as it at blossomed. Though she could rock binary code like nobodies business it was journalism that was her first love, it was ingrained in her just as much as her need to find the truth to every story.

That's why on a cold morning in Mid-December she sat flipping through a file at her usual table at a cafe within walking distance from the Starling Pulse. After a few cursory glances at the information laid out in fine print, she set it aside in favor of reading thumbing through her pile of unread mail. One particular envelope caught her eye and she plucked it from the stack, her burgundy painted nails standing out against the creamy white of the paper. Slipping a finger under the flap she pulled out a card, elegant script danced across the page announcing the impending nuptials of her best friend Lyla Michael's and John Diggle. A smile bloomed on her face at the thought of the couple that was very much ready to be man and wife, so much so they had planned it for just before Christmas which was only a few short weeks away.

A blast of cold old blew through the cafe causing her mop of blonde hair to fall into her face and remaining mail to flutter across the table. Pushing the errant curls behind her ear she hurried to right the papers, gathering them all up to shove back into her briefcase.

“Felicity Smoak?” The barista called, reminding her of the order she'd placed earlier. Her patterned skirt flared around her knees as she rose from her seat, wine colored heels clicking against the floor as she made her way to the counter. “One coffee black with extra sugar and a gluten-free blueberry bagel.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, the young man behind the counter returning the favor as he extended her cup and a brown paper bag, with the words 'Happy Holidays' written in emerald green on the side to her only for it to be immediately snatched out of her hands. The noise of disapproval was quick to leave her mouth as she turned to see who had snatched her food.

“No, thank you,” rang a familiar male voice that had her rolling her eyes.

“Ray that's my breakfast,” she protested.

“Really? How about dinner?”

“For the last time... no.”

“Well maybe this will change your mind...” he trailed off as he pulled out a yellow envelope from his jacket.

Her mouth parted. “You got the pictures?”

“Don't sound so surprised. Sneaky is my middle name.” _More like creepy._ A laugh threatened to escape and she covered it with a cough.

“So what are they gonna cost me?”

“Oh these are free,” he said with grin handing them to her, Felicity eyed them dubiously before taking them. He pulled another envelope from his messenger bag. “It these that are gonna cost you.”

“How much?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“One date.”

“Do you not know what the word no means?”

“Come on Lis-”

“Don't call me that.”

He continued as if she hadn't spoken. “-these are really good photos.”

She held out her hand. “Let me be the judge of that.”

Felicity examined them for a moment, her head tilting to the side before slipping them back into the envelope and holding them close to her chest. “Are you absolutely sure that this is Mayor Wilson?”

“Yep,” he said popping the P, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Wow.” Heat worked it's way up her neck.

“Uh-huh, imagine how I felt working the zoom lens on those.”

“Who would've thought,” she said more to herself than Ray.

“You gotta admit though, he was always kinda shifty.”

“I never took him for one to cheat on his wife though.”

“He's a brave man that's for sure. Have you seen Isabel in person? She seems like the type to cut off your-”

“Okay-” Felicity shoved the pictures into Ray's chest. “Thanks but no thanks. I'm not really into the celebrity gossip scene.”

“Your loss. You know if you're ever going to hit it big time you've gotta stop doing small time work.” Ray took a sip of her coffee and made a face. “How do you drink this?”

“Order your own next time if you don't like it.” They stopped by her table and she collected her bag. Blue flashed in front of her as she bent over and quickly glanced up. “What's up with the sneakers?”

“I'm usually either running to or away from someone so I had to be innovative.”

“The life of a paparazzi photographer,” she laughed as they exited the building into the crisp air.

Ray bit into her bagel as they walked, his phone chiming just as they reached their building. He slipped it out of his pocket, whatever he saw made him perk up and he swallowed hard, his head giving a little shake. “Gotta go, Isabel just found out,” he informed her throwing the coffee cup and bag in the garbage can. “At a public meeting of all places.”

“Well....good luck.” He smiled before taking off down the sidewalk. “Oh and thanks for the pictures.”

“Anytime,” he called over his shoulder. “Just as long as you don't order gluten-free anything anymore.”

When he was out of sight she ducked into the nearest alcove and opened the sealed envelope, bringing out the high-resolution photos, the drug dealer known as The Count's face clearly seen.

“Gotcha.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Was that your stomach?” Lyla asked as they entered the bridal shop later that afternoon during her lunch break. Her friend had wanted her to tag along and offer commentary on the dress that she'd had altered.

“I had an a...unfortunate incident this morning. My breakfast got kidnapped.”

“Again?”

“I swear Ray Palmer just exist to get on my nerves.”

“He is kinda cute though. Are you sure you don't just have some angsty feelings bubbling under all that disdain?”

“Lyla, remember who your Maid Of Honor is.” The woman pressed her lips together to hide her smile. Felicity knew she was just teasing but it still drove her mad. She hadn't dated anyone since Cooper and she was going to keep it that way, having already had her fair share of irritating men. “You know all I'm interested in at the moment is doing my job.”

“And that would be fine...if that wasn't all you did Felicity. You've gotta live. How do you expect to meet someone if all you do is hide your face behind a computer screen?”

“If I'm meant to be with someone then they'll find me in my little cubicle.”

“I wouldn't take the whole fate thing literally.”

“Can we stop talking about my love life...or lack thereof?” She gestured to the rows of dresses in the boutique. “We're here for your love life.”

Lyla sighed. “I'll let it go, but not for long. Sara needs a playmate close to her age.”

“Just go,” she pushed her towards the fitting room.

A few moments later Lyla came out. Felicity tried and failed to control her expression at the sight of the dress as she came to stand in front of the one eighty degree mirror.

“Dear Google,” she whispered while taking in the dress, the sleeve were so puffy she didn't know if Lyla would be able to fit through the church doors, and the skirt looked as though it belonged on a plantation in the south.

“It's awful isn't it?”

“No,” she denied but her voice came out squeaky. After clearing it she tried again. “No, it looks beautiful.”

Lyla glared at her. “Felicity Smoak, you're a horrible liar.” Picking up the skirt she deflated into a chair. “It's my Mother's, she wants me to wear it. How can I say no to the woman who gave me life?”

Felicity came up alongside her friend. “This is going to be your day Lyla, sure your Mom is important too but when you look back do you really want to be unhappy? Oh gosh, just think about the pictures.”

They both broke out in laughter, the attendants sending them concerned glances. The laughter lasted up until the bell tinkled over the door and a cry punctuated by sniffles echoed in the room.

“Oh, my! It's like looking at myself forty years ago. Dear, you're breathtaking,” Milly Michaels exclaimed in her nasal voice.

Lyla's eyes went wide and she glanced furtively at her. “Crap.”

After a half an hour of the woman preening over her daughter, she finally left them, both exhaling and once again dropping into a chair. "Well that was exhausting," Lyla huffed, fiddling with the skirt of her gown. "I thought I was gonna have to- what's that?"

"What?" Felicity asked, sitting forward in her own seat, looking to where Lyla was staring.

"Is that a smudge?" Lyla pointed a blue polished nail at a spot on her dress. 

"Where?"

"Right there! Oh my gosh, it's a stain. What-"

Felicity jumped up, putter her hands out. "Don't freak out."

"Don't freak out? _Don't freak out?"_ She parroted incredulously. "Three generations of Michaels have worn this dress without staining it. What will Gammy think?" Lyla ran a hand through her hair, the brown locks frizzing out at the action. Felicity had to do something and do something fast or she was going to have an all-out Bridezilla freak out on her hands, which she didn't have time for considering she only had a one-hour lunch break.

"It's not that big."  That was a bit of a fib. She looked closer. "Is that wine?

"Are you kidding me?" Lyla pulled the fabric closer to her face. "How did it even get there. I haven't even had...oh wait...I did have some. It was John and I's anniversary and I got-"

Felicity violently waved her hands. "No, no, no. Nope. If this is some kind of story about you and John's sexy times I would very much like to never, ever hear about it. The man is practically my brother." 

Lyla winced. "Sorry. What are we going to do?"

She thought for a moment, chewing on her lip. "Lyla, do you trust me?"

The woman sighed. "Felicity, what kind of question is that? Of course."

"Well then trust me when I say I can fix this."

"How?"

Felicity glanced at the stain. "I've got this okay."  

"Fine, okay."  

"Give me the dress." A nightmare of one actually.

It took a while and the use of her skills of convincing but she was finally able to get somewhere. The shop agreed to attempt getting the stain out, at Felicity's risk. She'd made a promise to her best friend. She really hoped she could deliver.

 

* * *

 

 

“I love you.” Felicity stopped at her words, a fry dangling from her fingers. “I'm not making a pass at you...you're my assistant and I don't like you that way. I mean if we were a really cliché fan-fiction we could be a thing. You're certainly handsome enough. Has anyone ever told you that you'd be a great model-”

“Just eat your fries blondie,” Roy interrupted her babble. He'd had a lot of practice over the past three years.

“Thank you,” she sighed in relief, plopping down in her desk chair and popping another fry in her mouth. Her stomach finally feeling a little less empty. Roy sat across from her in his own chair and began to relay her messages from the day. “Go back.”

“Chris Helmer?”

“No the one before that.”

“Curtis Holt?”

“Yes, what did he say?”

“Mr. Holt said he had information regarding the new merger between Queen Consolidated and Wayne Tech.”

“Oh good, actually something I can report. Today's kinda been slow.”

“You shouldn't have said that.”

“Why?”

“Smoak, Seldon!” Sebastian's voice bellowed through the room. “My office pronto.”

“That's why.”

Felicity groaned loudly, fingers beating against her desk, her eyes closing before snapping open again. “Wait, did he say Seldon?” Roy nodded slowly. “I didn't know he was back from Prague.”

“Apparently yesterday.”

“Smoak!” Blood yelled again.

“The king bellows, you better get moving.” With a quiet moan, she got up, the bag of fries in her hand. “You're not taking those with you?”

“It's too early for alcohol, fries are what's going to get me through this.”

“Mint Chip would work better.”

“Make it happen and you can have off early.” The man shot out his chair faster than an arrow making her shake her head as she headed toward her boss's office.

 

* * *

 

 

“What do you mean Patty quit?” Felicity erupted, more surprised than anything. The woman was a machine and she couldn't see her quitting.

“She took a job at the Central City Centennial, they gave her a better offer,” Sebastian answered.

“Okay, what does that mean?” She hedged.

“It means there's a job opening,” Cooper interjected.

Felicity's head whipped around. “Is that true?”

“Mr. Seldon's right.”

Her breath caught. To have that job would mean controlling her own department, her own stories, having freedoms that she could only imagine before. Not to mention a pay raise that could get her out of close proximity to the Glades. She needed-no she wanted that job.

“Patty was also going to help us make the switch to full digital.”

“You mean everything would be online? No more paper magazines?”

“Have you ever had to fight against one of those Eco groups? Yeah, we're going full green. Now the question is how to do that.”

“I think I have a story that would be a great opener.”

Sebastian leaned back in his seat. “Keep talking.”

“Well you see I've been working with a photographer and we managed to discover the identity of the drug dealer haunting the Glades-”

He waved his hand. “Say no more. I admire your work Smoak I really do, but that's not what the people want to see when they boot up their tablets in the morning. Do you know what people like? Gossip. So that's what we're going to give them.”

Cooper grinned, his knee bouncing with energy. He'd been strangely silent through the exchange, almost like he knew ahead of time what was going to be said.

“But Sir, don't the people deserve to know what's really going on in the city?”

“Ms. Smoak, the Pulse was once all about real news, but that was years ago. News doesn't sell anymore. We leave that to channel fifty-two. If this magazine doesn't sell then we're all out of jobs.”

Felicity sunk back into her chair, her breath whooshing out.

“We need a story for the digital launch, so let's talk Queen's.”

“Queen's?” Cooper said with a shake of his head.

“West Coast Kennedy's.” Felicity tossed his way. “Robert Queen was going to run for Mayor-”

“But then he died on a yacht before his plans got off the ground,” Cooper finished. “Yeah, I know.”

“His widow Moira Queen-”

“Who's big into philanthropy-”

“Children's Hospital, Red Cross-”

“-Has two children.-”

“Oliver and Thea.”

“Mostly gossip the past few years has been about Thea, after her Dad's death she went a little wild.”

“Oliver's been quiet since his twenty-fifth birthday except for the breakup with socialite Laurel Lance over a year ago.”

“But no one really knows what happened between them,” Cooper added.

“Oh please, Oliver was a playboy. He probably wanted to play the field and she got in the way.”

“Ouch. You know for someone who doesn't like gossip you're pretty harsh.”

“Says you. How many girls did you cheat on me with?” Cooper's lips pressed together tightly.

“Alright, you two. That aside, the Queen's are going to be at their Mountain Estate with Merlyn this weekend. Rumor has it one of the heirs have bought an engagement ring.”

“Well it has to be Oliver, Tommy Merlyn hasn't had the same girlfriend for more than a few weeks at a time.”

“Then who's the woman?”

“That's what I want you to find out, and anything else along the way.”

“Who to find out?” Felicity and Cooper asked in synchronization.

“Whoever gets there first.” Sebastian grinned slyly as he tilted back in his chair.

“That sounds like a challenge.” Which was something she was good at, but not particularly fond of, in this context anyway.

“It is. You two are my best reporters,” Sebastian sat forward, his hands resting on the desk. “Whoever gets the story...gets the job.”

 

* * *

 


	2. Frozen (Literally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Saturday and because I'm avoiding a jog I decided to update again. Enjoy and I hope you guys have a great weekend!

* * *

 

Felicity hated gossip...absolutely hated it and treated it with the utmost contempt. Her belief from a very young age was that people deserved the benefit of the doubt. Anytime she heard a rumor about someone she liked to confirm it for herself before casting any stones. Yes the Queen's and Merlyn's seemed to have a graveyard of skeletons in their closet but they still deserved their privacy and respect.

Still the lure of running her own department, or possibly bringing the Pulse back to it's former glory, as more than just a gossip rag was strong. Yet one wrong didn't make a right, but one thought lurked in the back of her mind. What if it as for the greater good? It was no secret that the company wasn't doing well. There had already been layoffs and a whole division completely done away with, the work they had being dispersed equally to other departments. What if the whole paper went under? She wouldn't be able to pay her bills, or eat and then she'd lose apartment and end up back in Vegas with her mother eating nachos from the Grand, the only reporting being how many people ran naked down the strip. Oh no. Felicity would not do that. Hell would freeze over.

Felicity stood, her mind made up, determination strong. She could and would do this. 

“May the best reporter win,” Cooper said as they exited the office. 

“Oh I will,” Felicity murmured as she walked to her desk and booted up her laptop. Roy appeared and set a pint of mint chip and a spoon on the corner of her desk and after thanking him she threw off the lid, put a big spoonful in her mouth and after cracking her knuckles got to work. It was time to put her talent to good use.

 

* * *

 

“Nothing! How can there be absolutely nothing on him?” Felicity's hand slapped the desk leaving it red and tingling. "There's nothing but rumored gossip from years ago."

“He peed on a cop a while back, that's something,” Roy piped up, leaning back in his rolling chair. No matter how many times she warned him about that he wouldn't stop, she was patiently waiting for the day when he lost his balance and she could say, 'I told you so'. " 

Taking her glasses off, she rubbed her eyes. “Irrelevant, that was over ten years ago. I don't care what he did when he was twenty, I care what he's doing with his life now and not just the usual QC related stuff. How does someone so high profile stay under the radar?”

“Well I know if there's anything that can be found you'll find it.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Roy. But I've been searching for nearly two days, that's a lifetime for me. There's no nightclub sightings, or random flings, it's like he's a ghost.” She couldn't help but wonder if Cooper was having any luck and found her gaze shifting to his desk. “Hey have you seen Cooper?”

Roy took a swig of his soda, swallowing before he answered. “He didn't come in today.”

“Could you find out? I have some errands to run.”

“Sure. Anything I can help with?”

“Are you bored or something?”

“I'm out of school and have no girlfriend. The only people I talk to are store clerks, you, and occasionally my neighbors in passing. Please Felicity, give me something to do.”

“Umm...okay. Sure.” After a few moments of thought she snapped her fingers. “There's this guy named Cisco Ramon, he's in forensics for the CCPD. He promised me an exclusive on that string of murders. Follow up on that.”

“Me?" Roy gaped. "You'd trust me to do that?”

“You're a talented writer Roy, it's time to stretch your legs. Think you can handle it?”

“Definitely.”

“Great, now I've got some anger to get out and a dress to pick up.”

“Yours?”

“Thank God no.”

 

* * *

 

 

After forty five minutes on the elliptical and another putting in some hits on a punching bag she felt marginally better. Pushing her sweat dampened hair out of her eyes she strolled into the boutique to pick up Lyla's dress. The stores clerks gave her the stare down and she guessed she deserved it since she was wearing a tight pink top and yoga pants in the middle of December. Ignoring the uppity women and their stares she quickly grabbed the dress and was on her way, her phone ringing just as she laid it in the trunk. A quick look at the screen told her it was Lyla and she hurried to crank her car, answering via Bluetooth.

“Stop freaking, I got your dress, and I can happily say I delivered,” she greeted with a smile. 

“I'm going crazy here Felicity, why did I decide to get married days before Christmas?” Lyla breathed out, her voice hushed.

“Because you're tired of waiting. Everything will work out fine, you'll see.”

“What would I do without you to calm my Bridezilla ways?”

“Probably explode, or kill your mother.”

“Yeah you're- no Mom I do not want tulips!”

Felicity winced and turned down the speakers volume. “Umm I better let you go, remember you don't look good in orange.”

“Do you have extra cash? I may need you to bail me out. Ugh I gotta go, I'll call you later- Mom!” The phone cut out.

A few minutes later her phone rang again and she answered it without looking.

“Already? What did I tell you about orange not being your color?”

“Actually I look quite good in it. Even have a mug shot to prove it.”

“Roy?”

“The one and only. Oh I had that record expunged, so lets keep that between us okay?”

“Hey I hacked into the FBI once, no judgment here. Oh...I probably shouldn't have said that on a open line.”

“That's not important right now.”

“What's going on?”

“Moira Queen just arrived at Queen Lodge.”

“What? That wasn't supposed to happen until next week.”

“That's not even the worst thing.”

“How much worse could it get?”

“Cooper's there.”

“No,” she gasped. “He's going to get my story.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can,” she stated, clicking off her Bluetooth. At the next available intersection she made a U-turn and headed north. Cooper had already gotten the better of her once. It wouldn't happen again.

 

* * *

 

 

Pine trees flashed by as she drove along, the needles rustling and swaying in the howling wind. Patches of white littered the shoulder of the road; she leaned forward against the steering wheel to peer out the window.

“You've gotta be kidding...”

“What?” Roy asked through the Bluetooth.

“It's snowing.”

“Yeah that typically happens in the winter...near Canada. Um Felicity by any chance did you pack anything before you took off in a competitive fury?”

“Time was of the essence Roy, I can stop by a store when I get there. I will not let Cooper beat me.”

“Uh-huh...what about lodging? It's the week before Christmas. ”

“Oh...uh hadn't thought about that.”

“I can't imagine the backseat of your mini would be very comfortable.”

“You've got that right," she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing, It's a long story.”

“Felicity, woman I adore, who keeps me from living off ramen noodles, this isn't exactly your most thought out plan.”

“Well aware of that.”

“I'm just saying your IQ is-”

“Know that too.”

“And usually people with high IQ's don't go off half cocked, especially not you.”

“Talking to your boss remember?”

“Just saying. Besides you're like my sister, you wont fire me...right?”

“Keep thinking that Scarecrow.”

“Will you never let that go?”

“You stuffed straw in your pants and ran around yelling 'I have no brain' at the company harvest festival.”

“I was drunk!”

“As a skunk,” Felicity laughed.

“Fel-” Roy's whine was interrupted by her GPS demanding she turn left. Leaning forward she examined the road that she was supposed to drive down. A weathered brown sign declaring it's name to be Pine Lane. It was a narrow road, unpaved with limbs from nearby trees stretching across to create a canopy that pushed the drive further into darkness.

“Are you sure you gave me the right address Roy?”

“Pine Lane?”

“More like serial killer lane.”

“Maybe you should just come back.” She sighed, it was more like he was her Mom than her assistant.

“There are a lot of things I am Roy Harper but a quitter isn't one of them.”

“I'm just saying. You're in the mountains. Do you watch Forensic Files, Bones? Some weirdo hillbilly might take a liking to your skin and lock you in a room yelling 'it puts the lotion on' through a hole in the wall!”

Where did he get this stuff? "You're overdramatic and watch way too many movies. I'll be fine.”

“Please just come home Fel-”

“Nope, can't do that,” was said as she turned her wheels onto the drive and proceeded slowly. The snow on the ground was starting to get thicker, and she could feel the air getting cooler which prompted her to turn up the heat. Her windshield fogged and she turned her windshield wipers on.

“Is- eally- wo-” Felicity frowned. Her phone couldn't be cutting out, she was on the top of a mountain for goodness sake.

“Roy?”

“-Lis-ty.” His voice came out broken. The next moment it was gone completely, her Bluetooth beeping to let her know the call was lost.

“No, you've gotta be kidding me,” she moaned looking heavenwards. “It's okay Felicity...you'll get a signal back anytime now. You're fine.”

A quick glance out the window showed the snow coming down even harder. Something moved and she slammed on her breaks only for it to turn out to be a shadow of a tree. Moving more slowly she came upon a bend in the road and what she found around it had her slamming on breaks once again. It was a dead end.

“Come on,” she groaned. Surveying the area quickly she made the decision to turn around and head back to the main road. There she could call Roy and he would give her the correct address. But it was when she was part two of her three point turn when a spelunking noise caught her attention making her immediately freeze.

“Please God don't let that be what I think it is.” Pressing the gas lightly she felt her tires spin. “No-no-no.” There was no way she was this unlucky. After a few more tries however that was proven true. Laying her head on the steering wheel, she proceeded to take deep breaths, calling on all her knowledge she'd read about cars getting stuck in snow. Unfortunately-which seemed to be the order of the night- she was unable to recall a single thing.

Well at least she still had heat, otherwise she'd surely freeze to death. Especially given her current attire, she wouldn't last a half hour.

But how long would that last?

Frustration rising she couldn't help a cry of, “Got anything else universe!” Those ill fated words had barely escaped her mouth when the engine sputtered before going off completely. “What? No!” Her hands moved to all the knobs and devices in the cars. Maybe a wire had come loose and she could fix it. Wires were wires after all. A beep sounded. drawing her attention to the dash where a red light flashed alerting her she was out of gas. “Come on!” Felicity thumped the glass. “Would've been really helpful to know that an hour ago.”

This night truly couldn't get any worse. She wrapped her arms around herself, unable to help the shiver that wracked her frame. Was it getting colder in here? Already? Would she end up a frozen icicle in her own car? Roy words were starting to get to her so she shook her head and began to weigh her options. Either she stayed in the car and froze to death, or she went in search for help which could lead to her wondering out in the forest, her body not to be found until the spring thaw. Nope. So not happening.

But what other options were there?

The snow fell harder now, blanketing absolutely everything in a thick layer of the white powder. _White!_ Lyla's wedding dress sprang to mind. Could she? No. She could never do that to her best friend, even if the dress could be offensive to the Abominable Snowman. Bumps rose on her skin and she rubbed at her arms harder in a fruitless effort of producing warmth. What good would the horrid dress do Lyla if her best friend was dead, or missing? That would put a big damper on the wedding for sure.

Gathering her courage, she threw open the car door and rushed to the trunk hopping from foot to foot, small gasps escaping, and the harsh wind nearly knocking her over. Hands shaking so violently, her fingers moved to the zipper of the garment bag and drew it down. Somehow she managed to get the dress out in record time, only taking a few long moments to stare at it. “Ugh, you must love him.”

With a groan she started to step into it. “Sorry Lyla, but this is survival. You'll thank me when I'm there to be your Maid Of Honor...that is if I'm still alive by then.” Her breath fogged in front of her, and she shook her head. “Why am I still talking to myself? Unless I'm not...and there's come psychotic Criminal Minds type killer hiding in the woods?”

With a mental slap to her brain she moved back to the cab and grabbed her personal phone, sticking into one of the hidden pockets of the dress before stepping into the street. Now the real questions began. Which way to go? Either choice could lead to her being six food under...or not if wild animals found her body.

“Again with the negative thoughts, get it together Smoak,” she berated herself while taking in her surroundings. “Okay...right...no left...left...no right.” Was she too old to play Eenie Meenie Miney Mo? “Left...definitely left...hopefully left.” She took off, albeit slowly. Dodging trees and deep drifts of snow were a lot harder in a wedding dress. That's probably the main reason the Runaway Bride never had a winter wedding. “Bad time for movie references but poor Julia Roberts.”

When she got out of this mess she really needed to see someone about the whole talking-to-herself thing.

Before she knew it she found herself face first in a pile of muddy snow, having tripped over...something. A quick look told her it was a steel chain, a 'No Trespassing' sign attached to it dangling across the rough path she seemed to be following. Hope welled inside of her, that was a good sign right? In her excitement and desire for warmth she pushed further into the woods, only to befall trial after trial. First there was the what seemed like hundreds of low-lying tree branches that snagged at her hair and dress, then the thick snow/mud that she kept getting stuck in and last but certainly not least the shallow creek she fell into that somehow- despite it being freaking cold outside- managed to not freeze over.

A quick glance at the dress she wore confirmed her suspicions. It was ruined. If this 'wilderness experience' didn't kill her, Lyla would. Still she trudged on, soon reaching a hilltop she hoped would give her a vantage point. The snow swirled around her head, making it impossible to see into the inky black night. Or so she thought until she saw a faint twinkle in the distance. Taking a cautious step forward, her eyes squinting for a closer look she suddenly felt her foot begin to slip. Desperately she grabbed for anything she could reach, which happened to be tree limbs that broke easily sending her tumbling down the hill.

The snow at the bottom did little to break her fall and she laid there dazed, her eyes closing in pain. Blackness tugged at her, and she could feel herself slowly drifting into unconsciousness. This was it. This was where she died. The strength she'd exhibited in her earlier workout was no more and she could feel all the energy leaving her body. Of all the ways she'd imagined to go out this definitely wasn't one of them.

Her last thought before surrendering to the darkness was how she hadn't been able to finish the last season of her favorite TV show. How anticlimactic.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	3. White Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day my loves!

* * *

 

 

Outside the wind howled, snow swirling and building into drifts as the storm raged on. Frost settled over the windows but inside a fire burned in the hearth, the only sound in the room being the shifting of the logs as they broke down, succumbing to the inferno that fought to keep the old cabin warm. Still a chill lingered in the air that his flannel shirt and heavy boots did nothing to chase away. He refused to admit that the icy feeling that taken hold of his bones was loneliness. After all the whole reason he was even in this cabin was because he needed some time away from the prying eyes of his family.

He took a glance at the blueprints spread out across the table, held open by random artifacts; a old camera, a can of beans, and a copy of the Christmas Carol. His eyes felt heavy so he blinked a few times, hoping to rid them of the bleariness. Still the images seemed to blur in front of him. A deep sigh escaped him, his gaze moving to stare around the sparse room. Henley, his Border Collie, who'd been quiet up to this point, choosing to nap in front of the fireplace must have sensed his internal distress because he lumbered over and laid his head on his jean clad thigh. With a small smile at the dogs antics, his hand dove into the animals thick coat, petting him until his eyes closed in contentment.

Oh to have the life of a dog, whose only purpose was to please his master, eat, sleep and play. He could identify with at least one of those, seeing as of late his sole purpose was to please his mother, and he was determined, regardless of the personal pain it brought him. His father's death would not be in vain. That meant putting his dreams on the back burner. It didn't mean that he couldn't wish though, and plan for the day that the things he'd only ever imagined became a reality.

After another half hour of staring at the papers, he finally gave up on implementing any improvements, and moved to roll them up, mentally noting that he needed to add more logs to the indoor bin. He was on his third one when Henley stood abruptly and started whining.

“What is it boy?” He asked concerned. The dogs answer was to take off towards the front door, running in circles in front of the closed portal upon his arrival. Rubbing a heavy hand across his face he rose from his chair and followed suit. “Do you have to go out?” Henley scratched at the wood and he turned the knob allowing it to swing open, the animal bounding out into the snow as soon as the opening was large enough.

Grabbing his jacket and scarf from the peg on the wall he ventured out into the storm. The cold had never much bothered him. Once he'd said as much to his Mom after she'd scolded him about going outside without proper clothing. His sister had burst out laughing much to his surprise. When he'd asked why she immediately dragged him into their living room and forced him to watch one hundred and nine minutes of animated torture. Frozen, the movie was called. Well his brain was sure frozen afterwards, he'd practically felt the few cells he had dying. Not to mention those blasted songs had been stuck in his head for weeks.

He couldn't help the chuckle at the place his thoughts had moved to as he began to gather firewood, keeping a ear trained for a sign of Henley. The animal could find his way back to the cabin easily so he wasn't too worried, until a few minutes later he heard him barking like he'd never heard before. Dropping the stack of wood by the door he headed toward the side of the house, where he assumed Henley was according to the sound of his barks.

Turning the corner he could see Henley sniffing at something on the ground. Maybe an injured animal had came close to the house? All he could see was white so he inched closer, his eyes in slits due to the driving ice. As the item of Henley's attention came into clear view his heart nearly stopped, his eyes opening fully. It wasn't an animal at all. He couldn't had been more shocked if Santa Clause himself had fallen off the roof.

From what he could see from the dim light glowing through the window, a woman, dressed all in white was lying in the snow. Her features were shrouded in darkness but it didn't take sight to know she was unconsciousness. Hurrying forward he lifted her into his arms, her slight frame fitting against his chest like it was meant to be there. Shaking that thought away he pushed towards the house, his boots caking in mud and Henley jumping at his heels, obviously worried for his find.

Once inside the cabin he was quick to lay her by the fireplace, inspecting her body clinically for injuries. Not much could be seen considering the dress she was wearing. It only took a moment to recognize it as a wedding dress. The woman enshrouded in the garment was simply beautiful. Her skin was porcelain and chafed by the cold, blonde hair fell down to form wet curls around her face, and long lashes rested against her cheeks. She looked so young, yet he still knew she was a woman. What had she been through to lead her out into the woods? She had to have known she wouldn't survive the storm, not in her present state.

A pang shot through his chest. Surely she hadn't done it on purpose. Suddenly a sudden urge to protect this waif of a woman and not let any more harm come to her. Not even the kind inflicted upon herself. With that thought he wrapped her in one of the wool blankets kept in a trunk behind the couch, and after adding more logs re-stoked the fire. She wouldn't die on his watch.

He worked on her for a while, drying her hair with a towel, pulling off her soaked shoes and rubbing her freezing feet in his hands. The dress needed to come off but he wouldn't remove it without her permission and she'd yet to wake. It was starting to become an object of concern. How long had she'd been in the elements before he'd-rather Henley had found her? His hand traced her pulse point and felt it beating as strongly under his fingertips as it was earlier. That fact alone alleviated some of his worry. Of their own accord his fingers reached forward and brushed a curl from her forehead, relieved to find it considerately warmer.

After what seemed like forever of watching her face, her lids started to flutter and he leaned forward eager to catch his first glimpse of those eyes that had remained hidden to him for so long. It took a moment but when she finally turned to him his heart slowed down, only a dull thud in his chest as his breath caught in his throat. Blue eyes as deep as the ocean stared back at him, those long lashes tangling together, her now pink lips parting as she readied herself to speak.

“Hi.” Just like her eyes, her voice was something he couldn't quite prepare himself for and he found himself stumbling for words, something that was foreign to him.

“Hi,” he replied dumbly. A small, genuine smile lifted her lips and he felt himself fall into the rabbit hole that had opened up due to her unexpected arrival. A woman hadn't smiled at him like that in...well he couldn't remember. They all had ulterior motives, but something in this woman, her name still unknown to him inspired trust in him and he immediately returned her sentiment.

What was happening to him?

 

* * *

  

The first thing Felicity noticed when she drifted back into consciousness was that she was warm, all of her right down to her toes and that something...or someone was sitting close by, their body heat radiating in waves across her. A calloused finger stroked her cheek, making her immediately feel at ease. So it was a someone. Whoever had rescued her was caring for her responsibly and had no intention of hurting her. With that last tendrils of sleep finally released her and she felt her weighted lids begin to lift.

First in her line of vision was a crackling fireplace and a stone hearth. The person beside her seemed to freeze as her head turned and it caused her curiosity to spike. Slowly she turned her head, eyes fluttering to meet a set of the most beautiful blue eyes, staring down at her in rapture. She'd seen many a man, some she would describe as hot, others cute...but this one was just drop dead gorgeous, the more manly term being ruggedly handsome, with dishwater blonde hair and a glorious amount of stubble shadowing his strong jaw. A mole rested at the corner of his mouth, his perfectly shaped lips parting at her perusal. There was something familiar about that mouth, his whole face really but it just wouldn't come to her, perhaps as a result of her fall.

So rather than babble, as she usually did, she settled on one word, biting back all the other inappropriate things that would be sure to spill forth due the mans extreme attractiveness. “Hi,” she greeted shyly.

The lips she had admired lifted into a smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling at the effort, almost like it didn't happen that often. “Hi,” he parroted.

“What happened?”

“You tell me,” he requested kindly. “I-” A bark sounded from beside him and the man patted the Collie's head. “We found you buried in a snow bank. Lucky we did too because it wouldn't have been long before hypothermia set in.”

The dog padded closer to her and she reached out a hand, stroking her fingers through his fur. “Thanks buddy.” The dog licked her face and she giggled.

The man pulled him back. “Give her some time before you try to lick her to death boy.”

“It's okay, I don't mind.” At her words the dog crawled towards her and laid down beside her. She returned to stroking him.

“So...mind telling me how you ended up in the middle of the woods, in a blizzard...wearing a wedding dress?”

Felicity glanced up, “It's a long story.” The longest, most complicated one ever. 

The man gestured to the windows that were currently rattling and settled back against the couch. “I've got time.”

Where could she start? The whole day sounded quite crazy, even to her who'd lived it. She stayed silent, lost in her own head as per usual as she thought it all over.

“Maybe I should start by introducing myself? Break the ice a little?”

She nearly laughed aloud at his cheesy pun. “That would be nice.”

“I'm Oliver,” he pointed to the dog. “And this mutt here is Henley.” If he said anything else after that it must have been drowned out by the rapid beating of her heart as blood rushed in her ears.

It all came back to her then. Where she'd seen that face, those eyes and lips before. She sat up abruptly, her head spinning at the movement.

“Whoa, careful,” his hand landed on her shoulder to steady her.

But his words went in one ear and out the other, the hand on her shoulder scrambling her brain, but not enough to keep herself from internally freaking out for the second time of the night. The man before her...was none other than Oliver Queen. Her assignment. Oh she was so screwed.

The man... _Oliver_ , she reminded herself, waited patiently for her to return the introduction. Swallowing thickly, she did her best to reply in the most normal voice possible.

“Felicity Smoa-” It then occurred to her that she couldn't use her real name....cause that would be crazy, not to mention really stupid. So she tried her hand an improvisation, something she'd never been good at but seeing as there was no other options. “Linski...Felicity Smoalinski,” she trailed off lamely.

“Smoalinski?” Oliver asked dubiously, his brow furrowing.

“I'm Jewish,” came flying from her mouth and she nearly sighed in relief. Maybe if she stuck as close to the truth as possible she would come out of this with her cover intact.

Finally he nodded and she sent a prayer heavenwards. “Nice to meet you Felicity Smoa-” He stopped, as if trying to wrap his tongue around the word.

“Linski, it's a mouthful.” There was a pregnant pause as they both watched each other. “So just Oliver?”

He blinked, his eye shuttering where they had once been so open to her. “Yeah, just Oliver.” His attention seemed to be caught by the smoke that wafted up the chimney, after a few long moments of silence he returned. “Enough about me. It looks like you haven't had that great of a day.”

“How could you tell?”

“Well, the torn wedding dress was a dead giveaway.” She nearly facepalmed. “Runaway bride?”

“Uh...runaway almost-bride.” Technically wearing a dress made you a bride. Right? “I can't, um talk about it.”

“At least you had the appropriate shoes for running.” He pointed to her Nike's that sat drying on the hearth.

“That was actually a inside joke between my fiance...” she searched for a name, coming up with one of her exes. His wife may not like it but they'd never find out. “Barry, and I. Yeah, he likes...to run...fast. He likes to dance too, so we said we'd both wear comfy shoes to the ceremony but,” she smacked her lips. “Guess that's not gonna happen.”

Oliver's face softened and she could tell he was searching for comforting words.

“You know what? I'll be fine...in time...not too long of course. I don't want to be one of those terminally single cat ladies. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I love cats, not as much as I like dogs because you don't have to clean up after them and they're way more cuddly,” she pinched her mouth shut, already feeling a blush working it's way up her neck. Why, oh why did she have to be cursed with babble?

“I think it's kinda cute,” Oliver admitted.

“Let me die,” she groaned falling back onto the rug and covering her face. Something dug into her side so rolled to the side, her hands roving over the bodice of the dress to identify the cause of discomfort. She pulled out her phone, the glass shattered, ink blots covering the blitzing screen. “My baby!”

“I might have some rice somewhere,” Oliver offered.

“Thanks, it's no use. Merlin is gone.”

“Merlin?”

“You know, like the wizard?”

“You named your phone after a fictional wizard?”

“If I'm going to be spending so much time with something, it needs to have a name.” She glanced up, “Yes I know I'm weird.”

His hands rose in surrender. “I didn't say anything.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Yeah but you were thinking it.” Oliver bit back a smile and she just rolled her eyes. Across the room she spotted a green rotary phone. “Hey, just Oliver could I use your phone?”

“You could but it wouldn't do you any good, the landline is down. Cell service doesn't reach this far out either.” Yeah she'd found that out the hard way. “And no one's going anywhere anyway because of the blizzard.”

Well wasn't this a fine kettle of fish?

“Okay then.” She rubbed her arms and leaned closer to the fire.

“I'm guessing you didn't grab a change of clothes before you...” He moved his fingers in a running motion.

“Haha, yeah no. Today's just been one of those spur of the moment, really weird, kind of days.”

Oliver rose to his feet, his fingers rubbing together catching her notice. “We're not the same size but I might have something that would fit you.” He disappeared from the room for a few minutes, returning with a red checkered shirt, a pair of gray sweatpants and a pair of black wool socks. “Sorry.”

Felicity stood, the tattered dress falling around her ankles. “Don't be. I have never been so happy to see flannel, besides its not like you knew a woman was going to fall into a snow drift outside your secluded cabin.”

Oliver chuckled. “If I had I would've planned ahead.”

“Yeah...”

“So where's your car? I'm assuming that's how you got here.”

“Probably buried under a mound of snow. If it helps it was by the no trespassing sign, which you've seen that I ignored.”

“You're not a follow the rules type of person are you?”

“No,” she grinned. “Not at all.”  

 

* * *

 

 

Oliver led her to a back bedroom so she could change, closing the door softly behind him as he left her alone. Peeling the dress off her body proved more difficult than she'd anticipated and it landed her on her butt on more than one occasion. With some grunting the gown finally slid to the floor and she lifted it to survey the damage. Her throat closed up at what she saw.

“I'm so dead,” she murmured aloud as her eyes looked right through a gigantic hole in the skirt. Eventually the cold of the room had her scurrying into the borrowed clothes, the smell that she could now identify as it's owners lingering around her. The shirt was large enough to fit two of her inside but it was warm, she'd be lying if she said she didn't bury her nose in the fabric once or twice. Luckily the sweatpants were more manageable, the drawstring was long allowing them to settle around her waist loosely, and after a few rolls of the pant legs they ceased to drag the floor.

Cozy for the first time in hours she escaped from the chilly room. She hadn't looked around much, too in a hurry to change that she hadn't noticed how big the cabin was...for well a cabin. There were two other bedrooms, small but quaint. A full bathroom, and a conjoined living and dining space, complete with a mahogany table and six chairs, on which looked like a set of blueprints. She leaned close the survey the work but without her glasses couldn't see much of anything.

Oliver entered from another doorway, one that must lead to the kitchen since he was carrying two mugs. “Hope you like hot chocolate.”

Felicity mock gasped as she took the proffered mug. “What a thing to ask.” Oliver smiled and took a sip from his own mug. She did as well, finding the temperature to be just right as she walked around the room. “You have a lovely home. Is it just you?”

Oliver hesitated a moment and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Just me and Henley...and now you.”

She hummed noncommittally and took another sip of her chocolate, stopping to look at a carved wooden ship on the mantel. He must have changed his mind because he continued, this time more truthfully. That made one of them.

“Actually this is a caretakers cabin for a bigger estate. You heard of the Queens?”

“Queen...” she bit her lip. “You know that name sounds familiar. She hated playing dumb, especially when she was anything but.

“Robert Queen was CEO of Queen Consolidated for many years until his son took over.”

“Oh right, yes of course.”

“This was his retreat.”

“But now this is the caretaker's cabin?”

“That's right. The estate is a mile up the road.”

“So that makes you...” Felicity hedged.

“Your caretaker for the evening,” he replied evasively.

“Alright then.”

“It's been a long day, I'm sure you're tired. Why don't you turn in? I'll take care of your car in the morning.”

“Thank you...for everything.”

“Of course,” he grasped her shoulder once again, the warmth of his hand seeping through the flannel. “Good night.”

“Night.” Once his bedroom door was shut she couldn't help squeal a little. Silently of course.

What a day it had been. Maybe she'd get that promotion after all.

 

* * *

 


	4. I'm Out Of My Mind & Running Out Of Time

* * *

 Sometime during the night the storm had blew itself out. He'd risen with the sun, and after donning his winter gear trudged through the forest in search of Felicity's car. He could have drove but decided that the clear air might do him good.

 _Felicity._ She was as unique as her name. He'd never met another like her, that in itself was intriguing. Many women tried to play games with him, acting coyly, or pretending to be what they thought he wanted, doing their best to stick their hands into his family's deep pockets. But Felicity? There was just something about her that made him feel as though he could trust her.

She'd still been sleeping when he left, cocooned in a mountain of blankets. He hadn't been able to stop the urge to check on her and had allowed himself a quick peek. After finding her breathing easily, her cheeks flushed red in sleep, he'd padded from the room and shut the door with a soft click behind him. He hoped to be back by the time she woke.

By the time he reached her car his jeans were soaked and his face aching from the cold. The clouds in the sky parted only long enough to warm him for a moment before it was hidden once more. Miraculously his cell seemed to be working, and he used the few minutes of rare service to place a call to a towing service in town. After greasing a few palms he requested Felicity's car be retrieved and given the once over, charging any repairs that were needed to his account.

Before making his way back Oliver decided to check the cab just in case there was anything inside, thankfully finding it unlocked, he pocketed her keys, another phone, a tube of lipstick, a small wallet and a pair of glasses that were tucked into the visor. The return trip went by slowly as the sun rose, softening some of the hard packed snow. He'd be more than ready for a fresh pair of clothes.

Opening the cabin door slowly, he slipped inside hoping not to wake Felicity. She'd played off that yesterday hadn't been that bad but he knew better. She'd run away from a fiancé  and almost died in the the span of twenty four hours. No one could be untouched by that. He was planning on taking her up to the main house-his sister Thea would have some warmer clothes that would fit her and she could make whatever calls she needed without dealing with spotty reception, when the woman of his thoughts came into the room, rubbing her eyes, her hair a ratted mess of curls atop her head. She looked utterly adorable.

“Good morning Snow Bride,” he greeted.

“Morning,” she answered and he was happy to hear that it was cheerful. “Wait...Snow Bride?”

“You know because...uh...too soon?” He grimaced.

“No, humor is the best form of revenge.” She rubbed her eyes. 

“I don't think that's how the saying goes.”

“It's does now.”

He shook his head. “I hope I didn't wake you.”

“Nope,” she yawned. “You didn't. I actually haven't slept that good in years.” Her eyes widened and a beautiful blush stained her cheeks. “That sounds like we did something but we totally didn't. I fell off a mountain and you saved me.”

“It's okay Felicity, I know what you meant.” He sent her a reassuring smile. Her babbles were really growing on him. “I wouldn't go so far as to say you fell off a mountain though, just a really steep hill.”

“Right,” she muttered, her gaze moving to her socked feet.

“I went to your car this morning, called for a tow and got some of your things.” She immediately perks up as he handed her the items.

“Thank you so much.” Felicity pressed them to her chest, acting as though they were her most precious possessions. She slipped the glasses on her face and blinked a few times as if seeing the world anew. Huh, he wouldn't have taken her for spectacle wearing type. If anything the thick-rimmed glasses made her look cuter, which couldn't be said for all women. "Now I can see things up close again."

“You're welcome.” Her stomach chose that moment to emit a loud growl and she flushed again. “Hungry?”

“A bit.”

“Eggs and venison okay?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

 

* * *

 

 

Well, she could now add cooking to the list of Oliver Queen's many, many talents. That was if the tabloids were to be believed. Normally she didn't pay any mind to that garbage, but watching the muscles playing under the tight fabric of his shirt as he'd cooked led her to believe that for once they might just be telling the truth.

“That was amazing, thank you.” She closed her eyes. “I did it again.” Hearing a cough, she opened her eyes to find Oliver laughing at her as silently as possible. She threw a dish towel at him which he easily dodged. With a huff, she crossed her arms.

A knocking noise echoed through the cabin and Oliver moved to the front door, letting whoever had come calling enter, a blast of icy air coming in with them. She stayed hidden, unsure if Oliver wanted her seen or not.

“Oliver, glad to see you are all right son,” the man greeted, his accent thick.

“I am, what brought you out this way, Walter?”

“Your Mother was worried.”

“There has to be more than just that.”

Walter smiled, knowing he'd been caught. “She wants to know when you'll be joining her, Thea and Tommy for lunch.”

“Wait...Tommy's here? I thought he wasn't coming until next week?”

“He's on his way.”

Oliver stayed silent for a long while. “I'll be up within the hour,” he eventually answered.

“Marvelous.” Felicity could hear the man step toward the door, opening it with a whine. “Oh, and there's a razor in the bathroom closet.”

“Thanks, Walter,” Oliver sighed just before the door shut. She came out of hiding.

“If it's any consolation, I think the scruffy thing is working for you.” Oliver's eyes snapped to hers as she stepped forward. “And I think Just Oliver is not the caretaker.”

He deflated against the closed portal. “That would be Walter, who just left. Sometimes I just borrow his place, though technically it belongs to my family.”

“So technically that makes you...”

“Oliver Queen.”

“Oh...wow,” she said, genuinely surprised even though she'd known already. Hearing him admit it, his voice less than proud was flooring.

“Look,” he walked to stand in front of her. “I'm sorry for misleading you, sometimes it's nice to be just Oliver for a while.”

Felicity smiled softly. She could only imagine the life he led, always in the public eye. Though she'd never lived it herself she could understand it would be easy to lose one's self in the constant flashes of photographers cameras. As he once had. “I get that, you don't have to apologize.”

Oliver grinned. “Why don't we head up to the house, get you a change of clothes? You can make a few calls if you need too.”

“You're not going to shave?”

Oliver ran a hand over his jaw and she couldn't help but watch him. For some reason, her fingers itched to scrape through that two-day-old stubble. So lost in her desires was she that she didn't notice him watching her. With a little jump, Felicity cleared her throat and looked away.

“No, I don't think I will.” He swept his hand toward the door, a little smirk playing on his lips. “Shall we?”

Felicity nodded and followed after him. Fifteen minutes later, her body warm inside Oliver's coat found her entering into the foyer of Queen Lodge, her Nike's squeaking against the marble tiles. She was momentarily taken back at the grandeur, her eyes darting every which way as she took in the winding staircase, and the sparkling chandelier. The house, from what she could see was decked top to bottom in Christmas decorations that dimmed her own Chrismukkah ones in comparison.

“Mom,” Oliver called out. “Walter?” No reply came so Oliver place a hand on her arm. “Let me go find them, you wait here.” She nodded and watched as he walked away, Henley by his side, tail wagging.

Her feet moved of their own accord and she found herself marveling at everything in sight. Soon she found herself at a table of picture frames, in which were photos of the whole Queen family, and occasional Merlyn through the years. Some time must have passed as she looked because a voice suddenly came from her side causing her to drop the picture she'd been studying-one of Tommy, Thea, and Oliver, back to the table.

“May I help you?”

She whirled and her mouth nearly dropped open. There in all of her of her opulent glory stood- “Moira Queen.”

“Yes,” she confirmed unnecessarily. “Do you have something for me?” The woman glided forward, the skirt of her navy dress swirling, heels clicking softly over the Persian rug-that no doubt was more expensive than her car, her blonde hair perfectly styled, makeup simple but elegant, emerald colored eyes that stood out against the paleness of her skin. Moira's dainty hands rose to clasp one another in a sign of patience.

Her jaw snapped shut and she did her best not to stutter her next words. “Have something?”

“A package? If so all of them go through Walter.”

“Oh...no. Um, Walter, I just saw him..um,” she bumbled finally coming to a stop.

“Did Walter leave you here? How unlike him.”

“Mom!” Oliver spoke from the top of the stairs, causing Moira to turn away from her and her to sigh in relief. As he made his way down Felicity noticed he was followed by a petite girl, her short dark hair in ringlets.

“Oliver,” Moira cried, pulling her son into a hug moments later. “It's about time you came back from that old cabin.” She pulled back. “Dear you look like a protester, why don't you shave?”

Oliver glanced at her. “I'm trying a new look.”

“He's trying to look less like a serial killer,” the girl, who she'd now identified as Thea spoke, a wicked gleam in her eye.

“Hey! I never looked like a serial killer, it was just an unfortunate hair cut.”

With a less than ladylike huff at her children, Moira let it go. “No matter, you're here. Tommy and his mystery guest will be here at any moment.”

“Mystery guest?”

“Yes, Tommy called this morning, said he was bringing a guest and we would be surprised.”

Someone cleared their throat and they all turned. At the bottom of the stairs stood a man, his skin dark, a patch of hair on his chin. “Mr. Merlyn and his guest just pulled up,” he announced, his tone a bit tight.

“Is she brunette and a supermodel?” Oliver jested, laughter in his voice. Moira and Thea joined in. Thomas Merlyn apparently had a type.

“Oliver, I should warn y-” Walter started only to be interrupted by the front door opening.

“The Holidays can start now, I'm here,” a loud voice exclaimed.

“Tommy!” Thea yelped and took off across the foyer to embrace him. Moira followed soon after wishing him a Merry Christmas.

“You look amazing, as usual, Mrs. Q,” Tommy said, kissing Moira on the cheek.

“Oh Tommy, always the charmer. Now, where's this surprise guest of yours?”

“She'll be in any minute.” Tommy shook Walter's hand and gave Oliver a hug.

No one seemed to have noticed her as of yet. After all why would they? She was standing in one of the most upscale lodges in the pacific northwest wearing sweatpants and an over sized coat, not one stitch of makeup on her face. Felicity was glad she hadn't looked in the mirror or else she'd probably find a riot of wayward curls escaping from her loose ponytail.

“Oliver, I tried to call you bud, but your phone was turned off.”

“I took a week off and went to the cabin,” he explained.

Tommy's shoulders drooped. “I just wanted to tell you-”

“Tell me what?”

And then the door flew open again- good grief, did everyone who entered his house have to make a regal entrance- and in walked...Lauren Lance. Felicity's mouth dropped for the second time that day. What on God's green one was she doing here? She looked to Oliver whose spine was stiff as a board.

“Laurel,” Moira addressed her coolly. “What a surprise it is to see you here...again.”

“Mrs. Queen, always a pleasure to see you.” Laurel strode forward, her body every bit the model type that Oliver had joked about. “Oliver,” she acknowledged softly. Tommy went to her side and slid an arm around her waist, nervousness showing on his face for the first time.

“You see, we bumped into each other on Halloween,” Tommy rushed to explain.

“Halloween?” Oliver echoed, his voice hallow.

“Yeah well, um, we. You see I was in Central City at a party-”

“What Tommy is trying to say,” Laurel interjected, her hand moving to rest on his chest. “We're dating. For obvious reasons, we wanted to wait and see where it developed before telling anyone, but I think now...now we know,” she finished, staring into his eyes.

“Yeah Oliver, I never wanted to hurt you and- who are you?”

Due to the sudden jump in topic, she automatically realized Tommy was talking to her. Everyone turned, their eyes boring into her, finally acknowledging her presence.

“Oh yes,” Moira shook herself. “Who are you? You never did say.” Probably because she was never given a chance, she grumbled silently.

“Felicity,” she piped up. “Felicity Smoalinski, and I'm-”

“My date for the weekend,” Oliver interrupted her, coming to stand at her side, his palm moving to her back. The words took a moment to digest but once they did she nearly choked on her tongue at the implication.

Moira, Walter, Tommy, Laurel, and Thea all looked at her again, this time in disbelief. She smiled at them, well she hoped it was a smile, it felt more like a grimace.

What had Oliver just done?

 

* * *

 

 

What had he just done? From the look on Felicity's face, it was something very, very bad. But what other choice did he have? Tommy, his best friend-who was more like his brother-was dating his ex! Wasn't there some kind of code about that? Seven billion people on the planet and he had to pick her, the woman who had broken his heart?

The hand that was on Felicity's had clenched into a fist, even through that he was able to feel the steel in her spine as she stood ramrod straight, her mouth pulled taught in a forced smile. Though he didn't find anything wrong with her, he knew how his family would see the woman in front of them. They wouldn't believe she was with him, or rather he was with her. His type, according to his sister was leggy, brunette and bubbly. Felicity was petite, blonde, and anything but bubble-headed. He'd already witnessed that brain of hers go and he'd only know her for a short time.

He really shouldn't have dragged her into this mess, but the words had just slipped out. Apparently her babbling was rubbing off. There was no way he could get through this weekend alone, not without punching Tommy's lights out or breaking down like a little baby. It was too much to ask, he knew that but could he? It was kinda too late now. He'd never done something so spur of the moment in all of his life.

Lost in his thoughts he didn't feel a tiny hand slip into his and squeeze, hard. He turned to find Felicity glaring at him, pleasant smile still plastered on her face.

“Isn't that right Oliver?” She asked sweetly. Huh? “I told your Mom how much we were looking forward to spending the weekend with her and the family.”

“Oh yes, of course.”

Felicity slapped his chest. “Now if you'll excuse me, I need a moment with my Honey Bunches here.” She side eyed him and stepped away. “Coming hon?”

“Uh, yeah, yep.” He took her outstretched hand in his and led them down the hall and into the library, closing the door firmly behind him. Sighing he slowly turned around.

“What!” Felicity screeched.

“I know, I'm sorry. It was impulsive and I'm not impulsive, the opposite really. I have to think out everything I do, every possible outcome and I-”

“Stop right there, the only person allowed to babble in this fake relationship is me. I get it okay, your pretty much brother brought home your ex-girlfriend and you panicked. If I was you I'd probably punch the guy but that doesn't exactly scream Christmas spirit.”

“Wait...fake relationship?”

“Is that all you got from that?”

“Does that mean you'll do it? You'll stay?” He asked, unable to keep the hope from springing to life inside him.

“I didn't say that,” Felicity said, crossing her arms.

He deflated, his palms moving to the back of his neck. “I can't believe I even asked this of you. I'm so sorry, you're right this is crazy. I'll go explain right now,” his hand was on the doorknob, already opening it when she slammed it back shut. He looked at her over his shoulder. Shaking her head, she slowly turned him back to face her.

“No. Is this crazy? Yes. Can we pull it off? I really don't know...but what I do know is that I'm not letting you face that pack of wolves out there alone.”

“You'd really help me?”

“Oliver, you saved my life, it's the least I could do. We can't let them get away with this.” He looked into her eyes, lost himself in the crystal blue passion that burned there. She was serious. “You in?”

A sudden thought occurred to him. What about the man that had done her wrong?

“What about your fiancé  ?”

“Ex-fiancé,” she immediately corrected. His eyebrows rose. “I can't talk about it remember?” Felicity took a breath, “But what I can talk about is helping a fellow broken heart.” She sucked in a breath. “How are we going to do this?”

“Maybe-”

“Shush, I wasn't talking to you.” The woman began to pace, back and forth, back and forth, finally coming to a halt minutes later. “I've got it. We're a new romance, we just need to get the basics down.”

“Basics?”

“Yeah, like the stuff we would know about one another after a few dates.” Felicity bit her lip in thought- a habit he was beginning to notice, and for some reason he wanted to reach up and free it from the torture she was inflicting upon the delicate skin. “Alright I got it. We can say I'm just staying for the weekend, I have to help my friend Lyla with a thing a few days before Christmas anyways. So onto the important stuff. I'm an only child, my Mom lives in Vegas, Dad left when I was seven.”

His mouth opened and she waved her hand. “Over it. I'm allergic to nuts, love cronuts and dumplings, my favorite show is Doctor Who, I'm split between the fifth and tenth Doctor being my favorite because, hello David Tennant. You already know I babble a lot, obviously. Oh and I like to tinker with computers in my spare time.” His eyes must have been about to bug out because she paused. “Did you get all that?”

“Uh...I think so.”

“Oh, I'm also a Capricorn.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“I was born January 20th, you?”

“May 16th.”

“Favorite food?”

“Italian.”

“Everyone's favorite food is Italian.”

“Uh...Chinese?”

“General Tso rocks,” she gushed, giving him a high five.

“Where did we meet?”

“Hmm...,” she snapped her fingers. “Got it, we met at a coffee shop. You drink coffee right?”

Oliver nodded before continuing. “And I bumped into you...”

“Causing you to spill your coffee,” Felicity picked up.

“On my laptop,” he finished.

“Poor baby,” Felicity pouted though no such thing ever happened.

“Then you helped me fix it.”

“How nice of me.”

“Well, you're a nice woman.”

“Allergies?”

“Just a younger sister.”

Felicity laughed. “I went to Stanford. Where did you go to school?”

“Harvard.”

“Naturally. MBA in Business?”

“Yep, I also competed in Archery while there, got shot by accident and I have a big scar on my left shoulder blade.”

“Good to know...I had my wisdom teeth removed why I was sixteen. That's my only scar.”

“So we're good now?” Oliver asked, mostly because he didn't think he could retain anything else.

“Oh and one more thing...”

What happened next was a complete surprise, something he never saw coming. One minute the blonde was standing in front of him, taking in all the details he was offering and the next she was rising on her toes, her tiny palms landing on his cheeks before her lips descended on his. He didn't even have time to kiss her back before she landed back on her heels.

“Fake dating at Christmas time means chances are we'd find ourselves under the mistletoe at some point and if that would have been our first kiss people would know.” He gaped at her but she just grinned and patted his chest again. “We're good now."

And then she was walking away, like what just happened was an everyday occurrence.

“Just want to put on record that I'm a much better kisser when I'm not ambushed!”

She tossed a wink over her shoulder as she left.

 

* * *

 

 


	5. Hope In This Insanity

* * *

 Holy crap what had gotten into her? She didn't kiss random men, especially not ruggedly handsome billionaires such as Oliver. What had come over her she'd never know. It was like for five minutes she was a completely different person, more confident and self assured. He made her feel like that.

Though the kiss had been short it had been enough to leave her wanting more, that however could be a symptom of her recent singleness. She shook that thought from her head. There was no time to be thinking about feelings right now, she was here on a mission. It was time she started acting like it.

“Felicity is it?” She jumped, turning to find Moira standing in the hall.

“Yes, Felicity...that's my name.”

The woman gave a polite smile. “Won't you and Oliver join us for lunch?”

“Oh...uh...we already ate.”

Moira seemed taken aback, but only for a moment. “Join us for tea then.”

“That sounds wonderful Mom,” Oliver spoke up from behind her, coming to stand at her side. There was just something about Moira that unhinged her, except when he was nearby. Maybe staying as close to him as possibly would keep that feeling at bay. Of course it had nothing to do with those feelings that were simmering beneath the surface.

Moira stepped away and Oliver followed after, a soft hand at her back gently guiding her, Henley following as well. As she strolled into the grand dining room she felt even more under dressed. Tommy, Laurel and Thea were already there munching on a variety of different foods that had been spread across the table. Were those fresh baked croissants? She glanced at Oliver out of the corner of his eye and he must have sensed her thoughts because he steered her into a chair, taking his place beside her. Not long after a woman in her early fifties, with brown hair neatly tied back appeared setting two steaming cups of coffee in front of them, as well as a pitcher of cream and glass bowl of sugar.

“Good Morning Raisa,” Oliver greeted. “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome Mr. Oliver.” The kind woman then turned to her. “Is there anything I can do for you Miss?”

“No thank you and please, call me Felicity.” Raisa bowed her head slightly before uttering something that sounded a like 'You chose well,' to Oliver and skittering off.

She was eyeing one of those croissants when Moira piped up from her end of the table, a china teacup in her grasp. “So how did you two meet?”

“At a coffee shop,” Oliver immediately responded, a smile forming as he proceeded to tell the story as if it had really happened. A few times he'd turn to her, a twinkle in his eye speaking of how they really met and she couldn't help but let a small giggle-very unlike her, escape.

“So Ollie charmed you into fixing his computer?” Thea questioned, tossing a look to her brother.

“Oh no, I did that on my own. I couldn't let the poor thing fall victim to a clumsy accident by it's negligent owner.”

“Clumsy?” Oliver asked in mock outrage. “I've never been clumsy...or negligent.”

“Well then what do you call getting shot at an archery tournament?”

“Actually that was kinda my fault,” Tommy admitted. “I was with the guy who shot him, Brad's ex...he was a little distracted.”

“Tommy!” Thea slapped his arm leaving him to rub at the injury. The brunette turned back to her. “So you fixed it. Then what happened?”

“I asked her out,” Oliver added smugly and Tommy gave a little fist bum across the table which he ignored.

“And I said no,” Felicity added, sending Oliver a look which he returned.

Thea's lips parted in surprise. “You said no to my brother?”

“Yep,” she said, popping the P.

“So what did you do?” Thea directed at her brother.

“I had to work for it...” He looked at Felicity. “For her.”

“And was it worth it?”

“Every bit.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest, in a way that if was any other time she'd see a doctor but with the way Oliver was looking at her now...like he could actually care about her, it did things to her. Thea clapped her hands and she snapped into the present, blushing slightly.

“So romantic, I didn't know you had it in you Ollie.”

“It just took the right woman,” Oliver agreed reaching for a croissant and putting on her plate. She smiled gratefully and he squeezed her hand under the table. Across the table Laurel was squeezing her own fork in equal fervor, if not murderously. Hmm..interesting.

Discussion flowed easily after that, with Oliver steering it away from her when he could. Everyone, except Laurel seemed to have accepted her presence for the weekend. Thea even mentioned going into town for a little last minute shopping.

“On that topic,” Moira began. “Where can I have Walter pick up your things? Not that your present attire isn't comfortable, but I don't imagine you plan to wear that for your entire stay.”

“Oh yes, very true.” She looked to Oliver who gave a nearly imperceptible shrug. “Well, you see Oliver kinda...whisked me away, very spontaneous. Just showed up at my apartment and said 'come away with me,' and of course I would go anywhere with him so I said yes. In my excitement... and lack of recent vacation, I kinda forgot to grab my bag on the way out.”

“Oh no,” Thea exclaimed, obviously shocked that anyone could do such a thing.

“That is quite awful Felicity,” Moira chimed in. “We'll have to make that trip to town today so you can pick up some essentials.”

“That would be very nice,thank you.”

“I have a few things I have to pick up as well,” Laurel declared, “I'll come with.”

“Yes, join us Ursula,” Thea grumbled under her breath, and she had to hide a laugh with a cough. Oliver rubbed her back until she'd caught her breath. Tommy sent a glare towards Thea that nearly caused her to relapse.

“Wonderful, we'll leave in half an hour,” Moira said before taking another sip of her tea.

This was gonna be fun. Not

 

* * *

 

 

The town was small with one main street, shops spread down on either side. Snow fell in soft flakes, sprinkling the evergreen trees. Lights, wreaths and ribbons adorned everything, business and street posts alike. Ski lifts could be seen if you looked above the rooftops, and Christmas carols played over a speaker that carried through the cold air.

Thea had lent her a more fashionable jacket until she could purchase her own so she was quite toasty, though she did miss Oliver's jacket wrapped around her as they walked down the cobbled streets. Laurel chattered incessantly about her personal achievements, most of which she tuned out. Thea seemed to be doing the same as she had linked her arm with hers and pushed ahead, pointing out boutiques here and there. They made a few stops and she was able to find a red wool jacket, a pair of jeans, two sweaters and a pair of black riding boots, along with some undergarments and a hat. Thea offered to let her borrow some of her makeup so she wouldn't have to buy any and she'd agreed since they were much alike in skin tone.

They rejoined Moira and Laurel-who was still blabbing about studying in Paris, and how she'd even worked with a famous chef who'd taught her a few things about cooking. Moira had said earlier that she'd needed to pick up some baking supplies and so the conversation had started.

“What about you Felicity? Do you cook?” Thea asked, trying to bring the discussion around to her.

She snorted. “No, I haven't had much luck in that area, but I can make some pretty kick butt Gingerbread. My Bubbe had to pass on the recipe so she put blood, sweat and tears into teaching me.”

“Gingerbread is exactly what the children would like,” Moira commented and Thea agreed.

“Children?”

Moira started to explain but Laurel butted in. “Every Christmas the Queen's put on a bake sale for charity.”

“You remember,” Moira proclaimed.

“Of course, I remember my time with your family with great fondness. I'm looking forward to contributing this year myself.”

“So it would seem,” the older woman pondered, her voice strained. “Oh dear, I do believe I forgot to get stencils. Why don't you ladies do a bit more browsing and we'll meet back here in an hour.” Then she was off, hurrying down the street. Laurel, her nose up turned did as well, thankfully in the other direction. Thea sent Felicity a knowing look that turned into utter elation as she caught sight of someone down the street.

“I see someone I know, is it okay if I-” Thea worried.

“Of course,” she shooed her away. The younger woman took off with a shout of 'Alex.' Who promptly took her into his arms when she reached him. With a smile Felicity turned away to give them their privacy. Spotting a sweet shop ahead she meandered down the walk, taking in all the sites. The bell tinkled over the door as she entered and the wonderful smell of candy and chocolate greeted her. The shelves were high and fully stocked so took her time looking at each one, taking advantage of the _'Try Me_ ' boxes.

It was when she was filling her bag with some amazing concoction of chocolate and coconut that the bell tinkled again and Laurel came rushing in, pointing to a Gingerbread house that was on display in the window. Felicity hid amongst the shelves as she bargained with the owner to deliver the treat to the Queen's estate by four, despite the mans protest that it was only a display. Laurel pulled more money out of her wallet and slapped it on the counter. “Just do it,” she seethed before sweeping from the shop.

“What on earth was that about,” she wondered to herself as she made her purchases, thanked the owner and left with her bag full of candy. It was the Holidays so she'd decided to treat herself, she'd also picked up a few for Oliver since Thea had hinted that he loved truffles and pecan clusters.

Once outside she pulled her work phone out of her pocket. Two bars; it might be just enough for her to place a call. After a quick text to Lyla and Roy informing them she was okay she checked her surroundings and dialed Sebastian's number.

_“Smoak,” he answered, “What do ya got for me, any Queen or Merlyn engagements?”_

“No, none yet but I do have an idea which one it might be. When it goes down the new will be juicy.”

_“Good, make sure you get it. With pictures!”_

“I will, just letting you know I'm expected the corner office for doing this.”

_“You're too cocky Smoak, you haven't gotten the story yet. Besides Cooper has angles too.”_

Felicity scoffed. “What angles?” A flash of turquoise caught her eye and she saw Thea heading her way, trailed closely by Moria and Laurel. “Oh cr-gotta go.” She ended the call. “Hey,” she greeted.

“Did you get everything you need Felicity?” Moira asked.

“Yes Ma'am, I did.”

“Wonderful, lets head back to the lodge. It's getting colder by the minute.”

Everyone agreed and soon they were filing into the black Bentley and on their way.

 

* * *

 

 

 The ladies had been gone the majority of the afternoon and during that time he had closeted himself in the upstairs bedroom, looking over the blueprints yet again and making a few adjustments here and there. Henley lay by the fireplace, his soft snores the only sound other than the rustling of paper. To be honest he had hidden away from Tommy, not wanted to deal with the guilt that was on his face every time he was around. He was in no state to reassure him. After all Tommy had been the one who betrayed him. The rational part of his brain, the one that didn't employ runaway brides as fake dates told him that he'd have to speak to him eventually. Just not today.

A car door sounded and he moved to the window, a flash of blonde hair under a red beanie caught his eye and with a smile he headed down to greet her. Who knows what tortures she'd endured at the hands of his Mother, Thea and possibly Laurel.

The front door opened and she was the first to step in after his mother, sister and Laurel bringing up the rear. His eyes froze as they took her in and she smiled and did a little twirl when she spotted him. Wearing a white cashmere sweater, fitted jeans and black riding boots she made him suddenly aware of the figure that had been hidden by the wedding dress and then his baggy sweatpants. She was gorgeous! Her figure was nothing like the twiggy women he'd dated before and after a few long moments of admiring it he couldn't imagine ever doing so again.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” Thea whispered, as she passed by.

“Goodbye sweatpants and flannel,” Felicity continued as if the exchange hadn't happened. “Not that I hated your clothes, they were actually very comfy.”

Oliver laughed. “You can wear them as pajamas if you like.”

“Drats, I knew I was forgetting something. I'll take that offer.”

Walter came in through the front, arms full of bags. “I'll just put these in your room Ms. Smoak.”

“Oh Walter I told you I'd get those, and it's Felicity, I keep looking around for my Mother.”

“It's no problem really, Felicity,” the man said with a grin.

Raisa appeared and offered her assistance. “I'll hang these up for you, there's plenty of room in Mr. Oliver's closet.”

“Oh!” Felicity squeaked. “Um, no I don't, we don't -” Her eyes turned to him and they were slightly panicked.

“Felicity darling, I don't expect you to sleep apart from my son. We don't stand on ceremony here,” Moira soothed.

“Much,” Tommy joked, entering the room and moving towards Laurel, who kept sending glares towards Felicity.

Oliver stepped forward and slung an arm around her shoulder. “See, I told you she'd be cool about it hon.” Felicity glared, her cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of pink. He loved seeing that flush and wouldn't mind teasing her to keep it there.

“Now that it's settled,” Moira went on, “Boys, I need you to go get the last of the decorations out of storage.”

“More decorations? It already looks like Hobby Lobby threw up in here!” Tommy said, turning in circles.

Laurel came up and kissed his cheek. “There's never too many decorations babe.”

His eyes caught on how she was holding onto his arm, like she had held onto his all that time ago. A tug on his hand made him look down to find Felicity staring at him, sympathy on her features. He gave her a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach that point.

“I'll get them,” he told his Mom, rushing out of the room.

“I'll help,” Tommy called, running after him.

“Don't bother, I've got it.”

“Are you going to be hostile towards me all weekend?”

“I wasn't the one that lobbed the first shot Tommy.” He grabbed a box of lights and set them aside.

“Laurel wasn't a shot Oliver, she's my girlfriend.”

“My ex Tommy!”

“That was over a year ago. Shouldn't you be over it by now, isn't that what Felicity is all about?”

His hackles rose. “This isn't about Felicity, and you know it. It's about respect, and trust. Both of which you lost when you brought Laurel through that front door.” He stepped forward, his hand pointing at his so called best friend. “She was almost my fiancé yet you didn't even have the decency to tell me you were bringing her.”

“I tried to call you!”

“Did you really think a few days notice would make a difference? You've been dating her for months.”

Tommy scoffed. “Oh and you're so perfect Oliver. I didn't know I reported to you.”

“You wouldn't have to if you'd just keep your hands off what isn't yours. You always wanted her, I bet you were flirting with her behind my back all along.”

Tommy's eyes flashed and a moment later he shoved him, causing him to fall back into a pile of boxes. He was up within seconds, a plastic candy cane in hand. Tommy blocked the shot he'd aimed at his head with a statue of Saint Nick. The fight ensued for some time until they were interrupted.

“What is going on here?” Moira yelled in outrage. They both looked up, immediately contrite. “One would think you two were toddlers the way you're acting. You're better than this kind of behavior. This is Christmas and you know how important this family weekend is to me.”

“I'm sorry Mom,” Oliver apologized, truly meaning it. Fighting was something he'd done in his twenties when he'd been an idiot.

“Yeah, I'm sorry too Mrs. Q.”

“It's not a competition Tommy,” he told him causing him to bow up with anger.

“Stop this. Both of you to your rooms, now.”

“Are you serious?” Tommy asked incredulously.

“Dead serious.”

Tommy looked to him, “Can she do that?”

“She just did,” he replied before pressing his lips to his Mom's weathered cheek en route to his...and Felicity's bedroom.

He was surveying his face for bruises when she entered, and leaned on the door jam. “Did you just get sent to your room by your mother?” Mirth rang in her voice.

“Sexy huh?”

“I'm pretty sure Laurel still finds you sexy,” she replied, moving to sit on the bed.

“Laurel?” Why would she say a thing like that?

“The whole time we were out together she was acting like it was some kind of competition.”

“Maybe that's why her and Tommy fit together so well.”

“She still likes you Oliver.”

He turned from the mirror. “She doesn't like me Felicity...just the idea of being of Queen.”

“I don't know, she has a Merlyn but it still hasn't stopped her from staring at you.”

“Felicity...there's a reason Laurel and I broke up.” He looked into her eyes, imploring her to believe him. “I can't be what she needs me to be.” Being with her had been what he was supposed to do. But that was the old him, the new him knew he wanted more than what she could offer him which was lies and betrayal. Real love is what he desired and he wouldn't settle until he found it. “Do you understand?”

Felicity nodded, “I do.” And he believed her.

With a deep sigh he took another look in the mirror. There didn't seem to be any damage thankfully. Mom would've torn him a new one if their Christmas pictures were ruined.

“Hey,” he turned at her soft voice. “I've got half a dozen batches of cookies to make. Wanna help?”

He saw the olive branch for what it was and there wasn't nothing stopping him from reaching out and taking it. “I'd love to.”

 

* * *

 

 An hour later found Felicity up to her elbows in cookie dough, attempting to show Oliver how to roll it. She'd made the first batch on her own. “You think you got it?”

“Let me give it a shot.”

“Okay, make sure you don't make it too thin,” she returned to stirring another bowl of the mix.

“Like this?”

“Um...”

“Maybe you should show me again,” Oliver pondered, missing the twinkle in his eye she went to his side, putting her hands over his on the rolling pin. After a few minutes of instruction she looked up and caught his eye.

“You stinker!” She flicked flour in his direction. “You know exactly what you're doing.”

“No I don't, I promise.”

Felicity put her hands on her hips. “Is this you trying to be cute?”

“So you're saying I'm not?” He smirked.

“How did you ever manage to get dates with that technique?”

“That was me barely trying Felicity, you'd know if I really was.”

Her mouth suddenly went dry, and she felt her flour covered hands start to sweat as Oliver leaned towards her, his lips inches from hers. Her eyes had started to slip shut, eagerly anticipating the feel of his mouth finally on hers...but it never came due to an extremely but probably needed distraction.

“What are you guys up to?” Tommy asked from the doorway.

Felicity cleared her throat. “Making Gingerbread.”

“It smells like heaven in here.”

“We just finished the first batch,” Felicity lifted a tin. “You wanna try one?”

“Thanks,” Tommy took a bite, his eye closing. “Not only do they smell like heaven but they taste like it too.”

She did a little fist pump. “Still got it, Bubbe would be proud.”

Oliver laughed and popped a cookie into his mouth. “Mmmm...these are amazing.” He reached for another and she slapped his hand away.

“Nuh-uh Mister, these are for the kids.” Oliver pouted but snuck one anyways when Felicity turned, which she knew because she saw him out of the corner of her eye. With a roll of her eyes she let it pass.

“Anything I can do to help?” Tommy offered.

“Sure,” she handed him the bag of icing. “You can try your hand at decorating if you like.”

“You sure about this?”

“They're for charity so I'm trusting you.”

“Is this alright?” Tommy showed her a cookie completely covered in green icing.

“Looks...great,” Felicity hedged sending Oliver a look. He shook his and went around the counter.

“Here, like this. If you hold it at a angle it comes out easier.”

“Ahh, that makes sense.” Tommy marveled. “Where'd you learn to do that?”

“Felicity just showed me.”

It made her happy to see that they were getting along better, making her smile as she put another batch of cookies in the oven. They continued to decorate the cookies stopping to add new batches and set others out to cool. She had sidled up next to Oliver, watching as he rolled out the dough for the next to last batch when Walter, Moira, and Thea entered. Felicity noted that they were very close for employer and employee. She'd wager that there was more to their relationship than just business though one of them didn't want to admit it.

“Something smells delicious,” Moira praised.

“It's my Bubbe's secret recipe.”

“What's the secret?” The older woman came to a stop, Walter by her side near the edge of the island they were working on. Thea took a seat at the bar.

“Wouldn't be a secret if I t-,” she started to protest only to be cut off by Oliver.

“White pepper an-.”

She gasped, her hand flying out to smack his arm.“Oliver!”

Oliver shrugged, his grin huge. “It's the hazards of having me help, I can't keep a secret.”

“Oh really?” Felicity teased.

“It's true.” That man! He made her want to...to...kiss him, again and this time for real. She busies herself with handing Moira, Walter and Thea a cookie instead.

Laurel entered and wrapped her arms around Tommy's back. “Cookies...how charming.”

“I'm the pastry bag master,” he jested. “So you let me know if you need any help with your gingerbread house.”

“Gingerbread house?” Walter asked in his delightful accent, not able to hide the surprise in his tone.

“Yes, it's my contribution to the charity this year.”

The gasp that escaped her mouth was only noticed by Oliver but she shook her head and he returned to working on his dough. So that's what all that at the bakery was about. Laurel was lying. She wasn't going to be making that house, Felicity doubted she even knew how hence her threats to the baker.

“Are you sure you have time?” Moira went on, invading her thoughts.

“I've got it under control, tonight after everyone goes to bed and I have time to focus I'm going to created a Gingerbread house that will dazzle,” she finished, laying her head on her boyfriends shoulder and leveling Felicity with a haughty look. Ha, if only she knew what she'd witnessed only hours earlier.

“Well, I'm sure the children will love it,” Moira stated around a mouthful of cookie. Thea grunted drawing everyone's attention, the girl gestured to her phone but she wasn't fooling anyone, least of all her. Felicity never thought she'd bond with someone over mutual disdain.

“Where are we going tomorrow?” She asked, curious about all this talk of charity work.

“The community gets together in town to help underprivileged youths,” Oliver explained, dusting his flour covered hands on a nearby dishtowel.

“Oh that's wonderful.” Living in a big city, among the hustle and bustle had made her take a lot of things for granted, including using her off time for better uses than catching up on her Netflix queue.

“It's a Queen family tradition,” Walter added.

“Running for office is also a Queen tradition, isn't it Oliver?” Laurel put in. It was like all the cheerful vibes were sucked out of the room upon her words. Oliver went back to pounding on the dough, so hard she was pretty sure that it would be rendered useless afterwards. She was confused. Was Oliver planning on running for Mayor, like his father had before his death? “Did he tell you that Felicity?”

“We haven't talked about it, none of my plans are set in stone Laurel. You should know that by now.” Seeing how wound up he was becoming she placed her hand atop his. Amazingly some of the tension seeped out of him at her touch.

“Ya' know, I think with Laurel making a Gingerbread house we can do without the last batch of these, why don't we head to bed?” Oliver nodded eagerly and proceeded to help her pack away the rest of the cookies into tins before bidding his family a good night and heading towards the stairs. It was clear once they reached the bedroom that neither of them had really thought this whole plan through.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Oliver reasoned, his fingers doing that little nervous tick of his gain. Yeah just what she needed on top of her already heaping pile of guilt.

“Don't be ridiculous, you're not living on a deserted island,” she protested. “The bed is huge, you won't even know I'm there.”

“Oh I'll know,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She'd heard him, but shook it off.

“Come on, let's get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oliver when a girl specifically asks you to get in the bed with her, you don't question it.” She headed towards the bed, hoping the blush would abate by the time he saw her face again. “Yes I know what I said. Can we blame it on exhaustion?”

“Whatever you say Felicity.” She continued gathering her toiletries, intent on taking a shower down the hall when a sudden thought occurred to her causing her to drop her brush and whirl around. “You okay?” He asked from where he was gathering his own things.

There was no mistaking the panic in her tone and she posed her next question. “Please tell me you don't sleep naked.”

Oliver tripped over nothing before coming to a stop a few feet away. “No, and if I did I wouldn't while you were here. I do have manners Felicity,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Okay,” she cleared her throat. “I'm just gonna...” Throwing a thumb over her shoulder she grabbed her stuff and high tailed it from the room.

It was going to be in interesting night.

 

* * *

 

By the time he returned from his own shower, his wet hair spiky, a towel around his neck Felicity was already in bed. An impressive wall of pillows had been built in the middle of the California King to separate their sides. One lone lamp burned creating a hazy yellow glow in the dim room as he padded on silent feet to the dresser to drop his toiletry bag.

After running the towel over his head one last time he tossed it over a chair and headed toward the bed, pulling off his shirt on the way. It didn't even occur to him to that Felicity might mind, it was just habit. Climbing up onto mattress as easily as he could so he wouldn't wake her he slid under the covers and rolled on his side, facing the pillow wall.

It had been a long time since he'd slept next to anyone, and strangely enough it didn't feel awkward. He suspected it had more to do with Felicity being the one he was sharing it with. In his younger years the thought of coming home, of sharing a bed with one person for the rest of his life was abhorrent. Now as he grew older the idea became more and more appealing. One person that he could share everything with, his hopes and dreams, the ups and downs, someone that accepted who he'd been and who he had and could become. A woman who'd do her makeup while he shaved, kept her toothbrush next to his, who would curl up on the couch next to him so they could tell each other about their day. Of course they'd have to come to terms with each others habits but rather than finding it scary, it was exciting.

There was one thing he was missing in all of this and that was an actual prospect, a woman that he could imagine it all with. Had he ever done so with Laurel? No, he hadn't. In fact he hadn't thought about any of it until he'd met a runaway bride. He refused to examine the implications of that thought. Maybe he'd been dating the same women so long he'd forgotten that there could be different ones. That was what Felicity represented, at least that was what he was telling himself.

The woman of his musings shifted jostling the bed a bit, a breathy sigh falling from her lips as she resettled, her breaths evening out once again. His lips tilted up at the sound and his eyes drifted shut. Soon he was lulled to sleep by the comforting rhythmic exhales, hoping that one day he'd find a woman who'd build a wall against him he was willing to tear down. Perhaps he already had.

“Good night Snow Bride,” he whispered before allowing sleep to claim him as well.

 

* * *

 


	6. What Games We Play

* * *

 

The morning dawned bright and early, rays of sunlight seeping through the cracks in the curtains. His eyes still closed, he snuggled deeper into his pillow, clinging to the last strains of sleep. When the fuzziness wore off a bit he noticed a crackling noise he soon came to recognize as the fireplace. Someone had banked it, some time ago considering the warmth of the room. Had Felicity done it?

His eyes slid open and much to his surprise came face to face with the blonde. She was still slumbering, her pink lips parted, hand tucked under a cheek that was flushed with sleep. Sometime during the night the pillow wall must have came tumbling down because two pillows were at the end of the bed and another was wrapped in one of Felicity's arms. He was surprised they'd both slept through whoever had come into the room. To be honest he hadn't slept that deep in years or woken so well rested.

Oliver knew that the time to get up would come too soon but he wasn't going to let the opportunity to study Felicity's face pass by. She was beautiful, he'd known that when she was covered in snow and mud but this version of her- her hair tangled, every defense down and completely as ease was extremely attractive to him. He found himself wanting to get to know her for real. Maybe...just maybe he could do that after he got through Christmas. He wondered if she'd welcome his advances, or if she'd turn him away. Was it possible she wasn't having the feelings that were starting to swirl inside him?

With a sigh he closed his eyes again, content to enjoy just being close to her in the moment. It was too early for such deep thoughts. Perhaps he could catch a few minutes more of the peaceful sleep he'd been pulled from. Sadly it wasn't to be as the door flung open and he was reminded why he'd always called his sister Speedy.

“Good morning!” Thea greeted cheerfully, jumping on the edge of the bed. Felicity startled awake and rolled closer to him on instinct, her hands grasping the sheets to her chest. His arm had been stretched and when she'd shifted closer to him it allowed him to wrap an arm around her.

“Speedy-”

“Ugh, stop with the nickname already. I'm not five,” Thea groaned.

“Says the person who just came and jumped on the bed like it was Christmas morning,” he pointed out before peeking at Felicity. The woman was rubbing her eyes, her nose buried in his shoulder, obviously oblivious to their current position. He wondered if she was fully awake yet, if so would she have pulled away from him? Morning Felicity was a cuddler and he had to say he liked that very much.

“Sorry Felicity,” his sister apologized and bent to grab Felicity's glasses from the nightstand, unfolding the frames for her. Felicity grumbled in answer and Oliver took them instead and laid them on his stomach.

“She's not always a morning person,” Oliver confessed. In actuality he didn't really know if she was or not. Another thing added to the list he'd like to find out.

“Is anyone- scratch that, Laurel's downstairs talking Mom's ear off.” Oliver chuckled and she patted the mattress. “Well I just wanted to wake you so you'd have time to get ready for the charity event, I know you have a propensity for funny business.”

He actually blushed at that before wiggling his eyebrows which made his sister stick her tongue out. “Thank's Speedy,” he as she ran from the room.

He heard her groan through the closed door, “Gah!” Causing him to laugh again, this time around Felicity stirred.

“Mmm...,” she sighed, her eyes starting to flutter.

“Time to wake up Snow Bride,” he said softly.

At his words her eyes popped open and flew to him, widening as she became fully aware of her surroundings. “Oh my gosh, holy muscles” she gasped scurrying away from him, eyes on his naked chest, he forced himself to let her. “I attacked you in my sleep. I've always been told I do that but I thought they were lies. I'm sorr-”

“Felicity.” It took saying it a few times to get her attention, when he finally did he caught her gaze, her blue eyes boring into his. “I didn't mind.” He didn't see the need to mention that she hadn't actually attacked him.

He watched as she processed his words, her mouth opening slightly. “Oh,” she breathed, slightly flustered. “Okay...well I guess if there was any doubt in your sisters mind...” Pushing her hair from her eyes she climbed from the bed, gathering her clothes to go change, clearly avoiding looking at him in his shirtless state.

“Hey,” he called, hopping up and setting her glasses on the nightstand. “I'll grab my stuff and change down the hall.”

“You don't have to-”

“I insist, take your time getting ready.” He couldn't help a smirk as he left, feeling Felicity's eyes all the way out.

Twenty minutes later, and a ambush by Tommy in the hall- who'd only wanted to know about 'funny business,' curse Thea- later he realized he'd grabbed his sneakers instead of his boots. Which would've been fine on any other day but they would be spending some time outdoors. The door was cracked so he assumed Felicity had dressed and was downstairs or with his sister. They seemed to have formed a fast friendship and he couldn't have been happier about that. Thea had been distant since their father died and had difficulties connecting with people. With Felicity there had been no such problem and he had started to see glimpses of the old Thea he'd known. He suspected there was a boy involved as well but chose to avoid the line of thought. She'd always be his baby sister no matter if she was an adult.

Upon entering the room rather than finding it empty Felicity was sitting at the desk, eyes roving over his blueprints.

“Felicity?” She jumped up, guilt on her face as he strode forward to stand in front of her.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been nosy but they were laying there and I got curious,” she babbled. “I know the saying is curiosity killed the cat and all but that never really detoured me from anything.”

Oliver hadn't show his work to any of his family, they knew his time had been consumed with a project but they didn't know what of and he wasn't sure he was ready for them to know.

“What are these?” Felicity asked gently, breaking into his thoughts. “I mean I know what they look like but...”

His tongue moved without his knowledge. “They're blueprints...for boats I've designed.”

“Boats?” Her brow crinkled.

“You think it's ridiculous...,” he started to roll them up but she stopped him, shaking her head vehemently.

“No, not at all. I'm actually surprised what with-” She cut off, horror filling her eyes. “I'm so sorry, I didn't me-”

“Felicity it's okay, really,” he placed a hand on hers. “It's actually partially why I started designing them. I want to build ships that are safer and more equipped for anything the ocean can throw at them. So that people can always come home to their families.”

Tears shined in her eyes. “That's amazing Oliver.” Her head tilted. “Have you shown them to anyone?”

“No, and I don't know if I will.”

“What, why not?”

“I'm the CEO of my father's company Felicity, and I'm expected to run for office one day. I can't even imagine what my Mom would say if I told her I wanted to give up all that to build the thing that took away the one she loved most.”

“Who said you have to give up anything Oliver. It's simple, is being CEO, running for Mayor what you want...or your family?”

“I don't get a choice Felicity, it's what's expected of me.”

“It's your life Oliver,” her voice rose. “ If you want to build boats...then built boats.”

“That's easy to say when you don't have anyone to answer to,” he fired back, immediately wishing he could recall the words at the look that crossed over her face. “I'm sor-”

“No you're right, I have no room to talk.” Felicity stepped away and he reached for her only for her to step out of his hold.

“Felicity please, I didn't mean it,” he pleaded as she started to exit the room. She paused and he sighed in relief when she turned back. In five strides she was in front of him, her hands in his. “I know we haven't know each other long, but I'd like to think we're on our way to being friends.”

She looked up under her lashes and he could see she was listening.

“What you said...you were right to say it. That's what friends do, they give advice, sometimes wanted others not so much. I snapped at you because it wasn't something I wanted to hear, not when it's an impossible dream.”

“No dream is impossible Oliver, I believe you can do anything you put your mind to.”

He huffed,“You'd be the first then.” Felicity squeezed his fingers. “Thank you, Felicity.”

“What are friends for?” He smiled. They went down to breakfast hand in hand.

 

* * *

 

Waking up in Oliver's arms had been enough of a jolt that she hadn't even needed coffee for energy. On the journey so far they'd passed the bridge of strangers and went straight to friends. Well if you can call being a pretend girlfriend to one of the subjects of your undercover op friends. She felt like a double agent, something that looked a whole lot cooler in movies but was twice as stressful in real life. She rubbed her stomach, to be honest it hadn't felt well since this whole charade started. The guilt was starting to eat away at her and the closer she got to Oliver made it worse. Nothing could make her walk away though, not now. For the first time in years she actually had some holiday spirit, whether that had anything to do with Oliver she wouldn't wager on.

The morning passed quickly, everyone meeting in the dining room for breakfast before they'd headed into town, tons of baked goods nestled protectively in boxes. The charity event was being hosted in a conference room at the Ski Lodge and dozens of booths were open with everything from cookies to quilts for sale. She'd worked alongside Moira and Thea to set out all they had prepared, Laurel had placed her 'home made' Gingerbread House on the table but had done nothing but mingle since. To see all the treats sell, including her cookies for a good cause gave her a great sense of accomplishment. Even more so when Oliver stuck two hundred dollar bills in the cash till for one tin of cookies.

“You know I would have made another batch for you free of charge,” she teased him with a poke to his ribs.

“Ow..,” he rubbed at the spot and she rolled her eyes. “It's for a good cause,” he continued popping a cookie into his mouth in a grand gesture, offering her one as well.

Felicity waved away the offer. “Yeah for your stomach,” she said bringing a water bottle to her lips and taking a swig. Across the room she spotted someone that made her insides lurch which led to her choking on her drink.

Oliver rubbed her back. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she coughed, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand leaving a stain of red lipstick. “Just went down the wrong pipe.” Cooper disappeared down a hall and she aimed to catch the weasel before he messed anything up.

His eyes twinkled. “Are you sure? I know mouth-to-mouth.”

“Ha ha, nice try.” Felicity tried not to think about just how well he knew the technique and how she'd love to experience it, but not when she was drowning. “I'm gonna go to the bathroom and fix my lipstick.”

“Okay, hurry back though. Neither Tommy or I can be trusted with these cookies and we're both rich.”

“Billionaires,” she mock cursed as she took off leaving Oliver laughing.

Next thing she knew she was shoving Cooper into a closet and not in a fun way. Why had she ever dated the cad? What had she even saw in him? Sure they were a lot alike fundamentally, but morally he lived in a expansive gray area. Looking into his eyes she could see now that she'd fooled herself into believing a guy like him was all she was ever worth. How wrong she was.

“Felicity! What the he-”

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean 'What am I doing here'? What are you doing here?” Cooper demanded.

“You know perfectly well the answer to that question,” she replied crossing her arms. “What did you find out?”

“Like I'd tell you.” Cooper also crossed his arms. “Did I see you with Oliver Queen?”

Felicity snorted. “Like I'd tell you.”

“So what's to stop me from going in there and blowing whatever sort of cover you have going?”

Wielding herself with a plunger she jabbed it his direction. “The foreknowledge that I'd ruin yours right back.”

Cooper's eyes turned into slits, a grumble coming from low in his throat. “Fine, truce.”

“Truce,” she agreed. “Now scram!” Cooper dodged the plunger as he slipped out the door.

Unbeknownst to her someone down the hall stood watching, an evil grin stretching on their face.

 

* * *

 

 When she returned to the booth she was informed by Moira that Oliver had taken a group full of kids away, storybook in hand. She heard his expressive voice before she could see him and soon found herself leaning against the entryway listening into the story just as intently as the children who were circled around him.

“....Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night! The End.” The kids broke into applause. “Okay...now who wants to play some football?” A dozen hands shot up, kids shouting 'I do.' “Let's go,” he said, standing up and spotting her. She smiled and helped him assist the kids into jackets and then outside.

What ensued next was something she'd remember forever. Dozens of kids of all ages, and a few parents, along with Tommy and Thea appeared on the field bundled up in sweatshirts and beanie hats, ready to play and though she'd never been athletic a day in her life, she too joined in at Oliver's urging. They ended up on opposing teams the first game and she'd had fun taunting him, making faces during line up.

The next game they were together and when Thea thew the ball and she actually caught it, much to her shock she froze until Oliver's voice broke in telling her to run. She did, with him guarding her back right into the end zone. She dropped the ball and ran straight into his open his arms, he swung her around and she clung to him.

A few more games followed, each one more tiring and fun than the others. Eventually she begged off and Thea joined in the sentiment. They stood on the sidelines and watched as Tommy and Oliver taught the kids a few tips then went onto another game, this time against each other. It was all in good fun and soon it was over and they were joining them, Oliver slinging one arm around her and the other around his sister and leading them off the field. Half way off Thea had spotted Alex, her boyfriend which she'd secretly informed her of while they'd chatted away earlier and took off towards them. Oliver closed his eyes and started muttering 'She's not a baby, she's not a baby.”

Felicity nudged his side. “You're a wonderful man Oliver Queen.”

Oliver looked down at her. “Why the tone of surprise?”

“Everything, since I tumbled into the snow, has been a surprise,” she laughed.

“Speaking of which, have you talked to,” He trailed off tilting his head. “What's was his name...Barry?” She sobered as his meaning took hold. Imaginary fiancé ....right.

“Nope...” she bit her lip.

“There's nothing you need to take care of?”

She looked into his eyes, saw something hiding in their depths. Was he coming to care for her? That would make this so much more complicated...but just the idea was making her giddy and eager for him to know there was no fiancee pining away for her or her for him.

“Barry and I are over Oliver....way over. Have been for a long time,” she assured him with a final nod of her head.

Oliver grinned and she could tell he was trying to tone it down a notch so she just grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the rest of his family.

“So how'd we do?” he asked once his Mom was in hearing range.

“Brilliant!” Moira exclaimed, slipping on her trendy sunglasses. “We made over four thousand dollars.”

“That's amazing!” Felicity clapped her hands together.

Laurel pressed into Tommy's side, close enough it made her want to gag. Well that could just be Laurel in general. She slapped his chest. “Tommy may have over bid on my Gingerbread House.”

“I bet,” Oliver commented and it took everything in her not to blurt out just where Laurel had gotten her 'dazzling' Gingerbread House. Knowing that it would bring Laurel's wrath down on her was a great help.

“No kidding,” Thea gushed with fake enthusiasm, joining the conversation. Alex nowhere to be seen. “So how was story time?” She continued before Laurel could put her oar in again.

“It was wonderful...Oliver was wonderful.”

“Oliver's always had a way with kids,” Moira replied, sending a gleaming smile at her son then her.

“Very true,” Laurel jumped in. “I remember when he used to make my nephew little wooden boats and talk about how he'd like to build real ones.” Oliver's hand grasped hers and she rubbed her thumb soothingly over his knuckles. A glance at Thea found her looking up at the sky and counting silently. She'd bet her last dollar it was to keep from punching Laurel in the face. Moira had taken a deep breath but seemed to be doing alright considering Laurel's inconsiderate words. Maybe there was a chance for Oliver's dream to come true in the near future.

A buzzing broke the tense moment and she pulled it out of her pocket. “Oh I have to take this, excuse me.” She power walked down the sidewalk until she'd reached a safe distance to not be overheard, neglecting to look at the caller id. “Hello?”

 _“Thank goodness,”_ a familiar voice shrilled.

“Lyla?”

 _“I thought you were in someones trunk!”_ Nope, she was most certainly not. Feeling eyes she glanced up and found Oliver's eyes on her. She waved signaling that everything was okay. It was almost like they were in a real relationship. _“Felicity! Did you hear anything I said?”_

“Umm...”

 _“Did you get the stain out?”_ Huh? Oh! The ruined white dress sprang to the forefront of her mind. The cleaners had gotten out the stain alright...she'd just added one, two- thirty five new ones to it. The little white lie was not so little after all.

“Yep, sure did.”

_“Oh thank you, that's one lest thing for me to worry about. You would not believe the day I am having! The minster that was going to perform the ceremony canceled. He said he was going on vacation. Who goes to Bali until New Years?”_

Thea called for her and she tried to end the call. “I'm sorry, I have to-”

 _“Oh no,”_ Lyla broke in. _“Mom's talking to the wedding planner again and that is not good! Gotta go, call you back.”_

And then all she heard was a dial tone.

“I am so dead.” With a shake of her head she slipped the phone back into her pocket, determined if she ever got married for real that she would elope. Someway, somehow she had to fix that dress, or find another one that looked exactly like it and fast.

Rushing over to Oliver she grabbed him mid conversation. “Hey, can I steal him real fast? Thanks,” she didn't even give them a chance to answer before pulling him to the side.

“What's wrong?”

“I just had a thought.” Oliver's eyebrows rose. “Well technically I have a lot of thoughts. I have a very high IQ and so not the point. The dress.”

“The dress?” Oliver questioned, still confused.

“The dress is still in Walter's cabin.”

What she was saying dawned oh him. “Oh.”

“Yeah, he cannot see that. We have to get it out STAT.”

“We can't, the raffle with the kids is next.”

Felicity groaned then another idea hit. “Or I can get it.”

“What, no.”

“Oh come on, I'm a good driver.” His brows furrowed.

“Do we need to revisit the whole crashed into a snowbank thing.”

“I did not crash into a snowbank, my tires got stuck in one and in my defense I don't have much experience in snow driving.” A line appeared between his eyes. “Oh come on Oliver, I'm not gonna wreck your car.”

“It's not the car I'm worried about,” he admitted. “No offense but you don't have the best luck, Felicity.”

“I'll be fine. Keys?” She held out her palm. Oliver looked skeptical but complied, dropping them into her palm while explaining the route she could take. “Thanks,” she said, stepping away before looking over her shoulder. “Oh R means reverse right?” His eyes widened and she giggled, taking her leave before he could stop her.

“Just be careful please!” Felicity heard him yell after her but she was already too far away to reply.

 

* * *

 

This time around she managed to make it up the mountain without any trouble, following the route Oliver had described and right to the cabins front door. Putting the car in park and pulling the keys out of the ignition she dashed up the stairs tripping once but quickly righting herself. It took her a few long minutes of fumbling with the keys to find the one that fit into the lock and when she did she pushed the door open with a fist pump and a cry of 'Yes!'

Felicity tip toed through the house like someone was there which was just ridiculous because she was alone. With that she charged to the back room where she'd hung the dress on a high curtain rod. Something became unbelievably when she opened the door and that was that the dress was not there. “No! Oh no,no,no.” Where had it gone?

She searched the house furiously, every nook and cranny, even under the beds but came up with nothing. Dresses just didn't disappear into thin air. As a last resort she looked in one of the closets, somehow she upset a shoe box and it dropped, it's contents scattered across the floor. Gathering them together, intent on returning them to their container a name on one of the letters and a picture caught her eye. Felicity paused, fingering the picture and lifting it closer. Was that? Moira and Walter? Looking into each others eyes? It was obviously wasn't taken recently, they looked far to young for it to have been. She glanced at the notes header. _“My Dear Moira...”_

“What are you doing here?” Someone said from the doorway and she fell back on her ankles, the letter fluttering to the floor. Crap. Looking up allowed her to confirm her suspicions. Walter. The man hurried to her and started gathering the papers.

“I'm really sorry. I meant no disrespect, I was just looking for something and it fell and I didn't mean too.”

“A wedding dress perhaps?” Walter asked calmly and she had to keep herself from fainting. He knew? The only option now was to play it off.

“Oh...you found that, did you? Don't suppose you know a good dry cleaner,” she tried to chuckle but it sounded more like choking.

“Did you and Oliver elope?”

“No!” She denied with gusto. “No we did not, no way Hosea. I mean not that I wouldn't marry him, I mean we just met....” her babble died out. Did she just? The look on his face confirmed it. She did. Frack.

 

* * *

 

“Fake dating?” Walter asked, his accent making it sound like a heavier statement.

They were sitting at the kitchen table where she'd just had to spill her guts to Moira's top man.

“We never planned for it to happen,” she explained. “He was going to help me get home but then Tommy came home with Laurel and it just spun out of control.”

“You have to end this charade, Felicity.”

“Oh no, no no no. We're in too deep now Walter.”

“You have to, it's not fair to Moira. She's growing very fond of you.”

“Is she?” Felicity wondered aloud with a smile, Walter nodded. “Yeah, I like her too. You know every one is much nicer than I imagined.” Opps.

“I thought you said you didn't know about the family, that you just stumbled upon us?”

Felicity swallowed or tried to since her mouth felt like cotton. “I did,” she snapped her fingers nervously. “That is right.”

Walter sat forward, his clasped hand moving to the table top. “Is there something you're not telling me?”

“Uh...” she searched her brain for an excuse. There had to be one in there, her brain was huge for crying out loud. Then her gaze fell on the letters again. “I could ask you the same question.” He followed her eyes, and with a sigh rose from his chair. He retrieved something from above the mantel before he returned, setting the picture frame on the table- one of a young Robert, Moira and himself.

“Moira and I knew each other when we were young, before she married Robert, their families just friends. I had visited America to intern at Queen Consolidated, there I ran into Moira.” Walter seemed lost in thought, a dreamy look of remembrance crossing his features.

“You're in love with her,” she stated.

“No,” he said simply. She tilted her head waiting for him to clarify the layered word. “When Robert died Moira and I became very close but this,” he laid a hand on the cabin table. “Is as far as I ever allowed it to go. Robert was like a brother to me, I couldn't do that to him.” Felicity nodded, understanding. “You won't say anything will you?”

“No...all I ask is that you allow Oliver and I to get out of this mess on our own, and we will.”

“Soon?”

“Soon,” she acquiesced.

“Alright, then all I ask Felicity Smoak...is that you consider the consequences, so nobody gets hurt.”

She paused. “Deal.”

 

* * *

 

Hours had passed, Felicity still hadn't returned and Oliver was starting to get worried. Ever since they'd returned from the fundraiser he been in his room. Maybe she had returned but he hadn't heard her. He looked out the window, disappointed when he didn't see his car in the drive.

Deciding to give her some more time before he went into full-out search mode he grabbed his empty coffee mug and made his way down the stairs for a refill. What he hadn't counted on was Laurel to have the same idea.

“You first,” she offered and he stepped forward, filling his cup with the rich black liquid.

“About earlier,” she hedged after she'd filled her own. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought up boats. I didn't mean to upset anyone.”

“Don't worry about it, you didn't,” he assured, though he knew it wasn't quite true.

Laurel's eyes misted over and her hand moved to his arm. “Good, because that's the last thing I'd want to do.” He had a hard time believing that. Surprisingly she advanced on him, to hug him or kiss him he wasn't sure but he knew it would be unwelcome. Oliver was just taking a step back when the front door opened and a shivering Felicity came in, bringing a few snowflakes with her.

“It is freezing out there,” she started, shaking out her blonde curls. “My body is not made for that kind of cold.” Oliver had never been happier to see her and used her presence to drift away from Laurel. Felicity noticed the movement. “Sorry Laurel, but I need to speak with my boyfriend for a minute,” she informed sweetly.

Laurel smiled back, not too sweetly. “Of course.” She gave him a flirty look which made him walk a little faster towards Felicity, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and after grabbing his jacket ushering her outside.

“Boyfriend?” He asked as they wound their way around the now frozen garden path, his coffee mug warming Felicity's hands.

“Too much?” Felicity's nose wrinkled up in a way that made him want to kiss it. Once again he ignored the urge.

“Not at all.”

“Good, cause we have other things to worry about.” He stopped on the path, waiting for her to elaborate. She took a sip of coffee. “Mmmm that's good.”

“Felicity.”

“Alright hold your horses, it's really cold out here and this is hot,” she took another sip. “Okay, so Walter knows.”

Oliver was glad then that he had given his drink to Felicity cause he no doubt would have sprayed it everywhere had he not. “What? How? You can't just say things like that Felicity and not tell me everything! I mean what if he tells my Mom? We have to sto-” He cut off when a tiny hand covered his mouth.

“Oliver, you need to take a chill pill. Gosh, I didn't know my babbling would rub off on you so quickly.”

“Felicity,” he tried to say again but it came out muffled.

“Oh right. Yes he knows, no he isn't going to tell your mother. After I spilled the beans, let the cat out of the bag, blew the whistle-” He grunted. “Anyways he made me promise that we'd end this facade and soon.” She paused, her expression turning apologetic. “I'm sorry that I couldn't keep it from him, I felt like I was in a Law and Order episode and he was the interrogator and boom, I spilled my proverbial guts.” She watched him. “Well aren't you going to say anything?”

“If you move your hand?” He mumbled.

She squinted. “What?”

Oliver took her wrist and gently moved her hand from his mouth. “I said I would if you'd move your hand, you're lucky I didn't bite you.” He linked their fingers together. “It wasn't your fault Felicity. Walter has that affect on everyone. When Thea and I were kids and Mom needed to know anything she'd deploy Walter to find out.”

“Not your Dad?”

Oliver put his hands in his pocket. “No, he was always away for work.”

“Did he share your interest in boats?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, he's the one who introduced me to them. When I was in my early teens...before I went off the rails and got too busy we'd go sailing in the summers, just him and I. He taught me everything I know.”

“That sounds really nice.”

“It was.” He smiled at the memory.

“Do you think...”

“Yeah?”

“Could you teach me?” He blinked. Did she want to learn? When was she going to stop surprising him?

“Come on,” he called and ten minutes later they were pouring over the blueprints as he explained everything from top to bottom, her listening intently all the while. It was by far the best afternoon he'd had in months. 

 

* * *

 


	7. I Don't (Do) Want To Build A Snowman

* * *

 

 

Who knew it was so exhausting to be a fake girlfriend? Fielding questions earlier in the night at dinner had been like running an obstacle course. She'd had to constantly duck and dodge questions. Lying was the last thing she wanted to do so she always answered truthfully when she could. Oliver had helped her as much as he could but she could tell he was curious about some things too, but thankfully he valued her privacy and held back. Once the dinner- rather interrogation was over she'd hurried out of the room intent on taking a long hot shower. Laurel's thinly veiled digs stung more than she cared to admit and she longed to wash them away.

By the time she reached the bedroom Oliver was already in bed, a book in hand. He was the picture of comfort. All her energy left her then and luckily she was able to make it to the end of the bed before she collapsed. “Ugh,” she groaned, flopping down face first into the mattress, feet dangling over the side. Sweet heaven. Hearing a chuckle beside her she turned her head and peeked open an eye. Oliver was watching her, his book laid open on his glorious bare chest. “What are you laughing at?”

He shook his head, a lop sided grin on his face. “Nothing.”

Felicity turned her face back into the comforter. “I've never been so tired,” she whined, slightly muffled.

“It was a long day.”

“Mmm...,” she agreed.

“Felicity?”

“Hmm?”

“Never mind.” At Oliver's words she turned her head, opening her eyes to find him looking slightly nervous.

“What is it?”

“It's nothing,” he rebuffed returning to his book, his eyes roving over the pages, but she knew he wasn't actually reading.

“It looks like something...What is it Oliver?”

He sighed. “It's just something you said at dinner.”

“I said a lot of things at dinner. Babbler remember.” She tilted her head, pointing to herself.

“Yeah...,” he trailed off, looking as though he was gauging her. She smiled encouragingly. “During one of your-” Her eyebrows rose. “Cute babbles.” She huffed and rolled her eyes before he continued. “You said something about your Dad. I know you said he left and you were over it but...”

It was tempting to deflect, make a joke and push the topic away. The look on his face however, one of pure compassion not pity stopped her. She crawled up the bed, turning on her side and resting her head her hand. Oliver set his book aside and mirrored her position.

The truth was she wasn't as over it as she wanted everyone to believe. Oliver had somehow seen that. Felicity just thought if she pushed the feelings away that they would eventually fade from a stabbing pain to a dull ache. Unfortunately that hadn't happened, at least not as much as she needed to be fully healed.

She must have been lost wool gathering for a while because Oliver spoke up, his voice soft and halting. “You don't have to talk about it.”

Putting her free hand over his seemed so natural before she answered. “It's alright, I want too.” Oliver turned his hand over and twined her fingers with his and if that wasn't just incredible. She forced herself to forge on. It wouldn't do to get too caught up in the gesture, especially since it didn't mean anything beyond budding friendship. “What exactly did I say in that babble?”

“That you thought no one could ever love you, since your own Dad didn't....how could you believe that Felicity?” There was pain in his eyes, as if it was the most inconceivable thing in the world to him. “I've known you only a short time and I can still say with complete certainty that you're the most remarkable person I've ever met.”

There was no stopping the tears that filled her eyes as she grasped harder onto Oliver's hand. “Thank you for remarking on it.”

“Just speaking the truth.” The truth and her were on the outs at the moment but the least she could do was be honest with him, about this anyways.

“When I was little there four things that were my world: Writing, Computers, my Mom, and my Dad. Mom and I never had much in common but Dad at I? We got each other, because we were so much alike, or so I thought. When he left....I'd never felt pain quite like that and asked myself so many questions. Why did he leave? Was it my fault? What was so wrong with me that didn't warrant him staying? I felt broken, as if I would never be whole again.” A tear slipped down her cheek and Oliver's thumb stroked it away. Much to her surprise she looked up to find his own eyes glassy. “I'm not over it Oliver.” And then she unceremoniously burst into tears. His arms were quick to come around her, pulling her close, to the point her head was buried in his chest. She'd never thought herself a clingy person but proved that assumption wrong as she clung to him for dear life. It was so easy to push away grief when you had no one to share it with, no one reminding you it was there. But now that Oliver was there it all had burst forth and she kind of hated that. A man like him did not deserve to be snotted all over.

“I'm here, let it all out,” he soothed, hand running through her hair.

It was a long time later when her tears were finally spent and she pulled back, wiping at his chest with her shirt. She didn't even realize what she was doing or otherwise she'd be blushing up a fury. “I'm sorry, that was too much and I-”

“Hey,” Oliver called immediately drawing her attention to him. “It's okay.”

She wiped a hand over her face. “Thank you Oliver, I think I really needed that.”

“You can always talk to me.” Tears threatened again at his kind words. It wasn't far from the front of her mind that she was still being deceitful. If he knew he wouldn't be offering her his ear. Instead used her talent for pushing things aside and dropped her head back into the bed that she belatedly realized wasn't the bed at all. It was Oliver's chest...his bare one her brain reminded her. “Oh,” escaped her lips. “There I go attacking you again.”

Oliver laughed. “And I'll remind you I don't mind.” He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

She was about to respond when a huge yawn broke out. “Sorry.”

“Not at all, I think we should both get some sleep,” He shifted to turn off the light, his arm leaving her only for a moment before returning, the room fading into inky blackness. There was silence for awhile, and she mused to herself it should feel weird to lay in someones arms, but it didn't feel that way at all. The steady beat of his heart was soothing and soon she found herself drifting to sleep.

“Goodnight Snow Bride,” came a whisper.

“Night, Just Oliver,” she slurred and then she was out.

 

* * *

 

 

The smell of coffee woke her, dancing at the edge of her senses. Her eyes fluttered open looking for the source and found it on the bedside table. A white ceramic mug, filled to the brim and steaming, the amazing smell permeating the air.

“Raisa brought it in.” A yelp escaped her and she turned to find Oliver sipping his own cup, a smile on his handsome face. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” she replied, her voice still heavy with sleep. The bed was still warm, a lot hotter than it usually was when she was alone. Her hand stretched out to Oliver's side under the covers, what she felt told her that he had only just left. As much as she liked waking in his arms she knew it was for the best. She was already starting to get attached to the idea of it always being that way. “Sleep well?”

A look crossed his face she couldn't quite decipher. “Very.” He took another sip of his coffee and walked to the window, pulling back the curtains to let light in. “Would you look at that?”

Felicity paused the cup that was on the way to her lips. “What is it?”

“It snowed again last night.”

“Okay....” She didn't quite get his meaning. Sure it snowed, it always did this time of year in the mountains. Just like it did yesterday, and the day before.

Oliver looked over his shoulder, a unmistakable twinkle in his eye. “Do you wanna build a snowman?”

She choked on her coffee, setting it on the nightstand quickly as her hands moved to her chest. “You didn't just say that.”

“I can sing it if you prefer.”

“Oliver Queen sings?”

“Not usually, but I could make an exception.”

“No, don't. That song always get's in my head and then I can't-”

But it was too late. He stalked closer, his mouth opening to sing. “Do you wanna build a snowman? Come on lets go and play-”

“Oliver!” He pounced, tackling her down to the bed, still singing. Lifting her hands she tried to cover her ears but he pushed them down.

“I think some company is overdue, I've started talking to the pictures on the walls.” He pointed to the painting on the wall over the bed. “Hang in there Joan.”

His playfulness was infectious and a peel of giggles escaped, echoing in the room. Who was this man? And why was her heart fluttering in her chest? Despite her protest that he stop, internally she loved every second of it and never wanted it to end.

All too soon the last strains were dying down and Oliver was close, too close. She could feel his breath fanning across her cheeks, his strong arms wrapped around her. A set of blue eyes met and held with hers, the look in hidden in their depths causing a flush to work its way up her neck. There she went again, letting him in, going over every wall she'd built. Felicity knew she should push him away, this would only end badly for the both of them but as his lips drew nearer to hers she lost all will to do so.

Much to her dismay his lips landed on her cheeks, pressing lightly before trailing to her ear. The shiver that overtook her couldn't be stopped and her whole body broke into a sweat. Was it possible to die from want? If so she had one foot in the grave. Never had she wanted someone to kiss her as much as she had in that moment.

Oliver leaned close, mouth brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke. “Do you want to build a snowman?” Oh she most certainly did and by the look on his face she knew he did too. If they didn't get out of this bed something that definitely wasn't a snowman would be happening. Like a full fledged make out session that would make her teen self proud.

Rising up on her elbows, she acted as if she was torn. “Hmm..you know it's not usually something I do....” She glanced at him, he just sat there pressing her further into the mattress, hopeful look on his face. “But...for you I'll make an exception.”

“Good.” He beamed. “Because it get's a little lonely-”

“Really Oliver?” He smirked and climbed from the bed, leaving her there cold and very much missing the comfort and safety he'd offered her unwittingly. She picked up her coffee, sad to find it tepid but not at all for the reason it had become that way. “My coffee's cold now. You owe me.”

Oliver, who'd been gathering his clothes tossed a look her way. “No regrets.” She groaned flopping backwards, her arm covering her eyes. “If you get dressed fast I'll make it worth you while.”

“Hot coffee?”

“Yep.” She jumped from the bed and started pushing his from the room. “Okay, okay. I'm going Miss Pushy.”

“Oliver you don't mess with me and my coffee.”

“I'm learning that,” he laughed. “Meet me downstairs when you're ready.”

In record time she was dressed, choosing to wear Oliver's flannel shirt and her jeans. Her hair amazingly wasn't a mess so she put her red beanie over the locks. After slipping on her jacket and shoes she hurried down the stairs. Whether it was for the coffee or Oliver's...well she just wouldn't guess.

The man of her thoughts was waiting at the bottom, wearing black pea coat, a green flannel shirt peeking out from underneath, a nice fitting pair of jeans and thick boots. There was no doubt in her mind he would look good in a brown paper bag but she would admire the view while she had it. There was an extra spring in her step as she came to a stop in front of him.

Oliver held out a thermos. “As promised.”

“Thank you,” she said taking it from his hands as well as a muffin.

His gaze moved to her feet, her blue Nike's looking worse for wear. “Those shoes won't work.”

Quickly she swallowed the bite she had taken. “I didn't want to ruin my boots.”

Oliver shook his head. “I knew you'd say that.” He walked around the corner and came back with a pair of brown boots. At her questioning look he shrugged. “Thea says the same thing.”

His thoughtfulness was hitting her hard, threatening to put the shattered pieces of her heart back together. No one had ever treated her the way he did. Maybe that reflected badly on her, she didn't exactly have the greatest taste in guys when she was doing the choosing. Perhaps the key to things was just letting things happen. After all look at what had happened when she'd given in a bit.

Finished trying to boots she hopped up. Oliver extended a pair of gloves. “For your hands. Don't want you losing those little fingers.”

“Frostbite is no joke. I watched this documentary about Mount Everest once. Do you know this one guy lost his arm, leg and nose from it? I don't know why anyone would want to kill themselves just to say they made it to the top of a mountain.” She came to a stop, noticing how fast she'd been talking. “Dang it.”

“Felicity, has anyone ever told you to stop talking?” Oliver asked and her head dropped.

“Yes.” She avoiding looking at him, embarrassment running rampant internally.

“Don't ever listen to them.” Her gaze snapped back to his. There it was again. That look... He cleared his throat. “Ready?”

“Yep,” she clapped her covered hands together. “Let's do this.”

Henley trailed into the entryway, looking between them. "Want to come boy?" Oliver asked him. His answer was to amble into the living room and lay by the fireplace.

"Guess that's a no," Felicity laughed.

"I'm sure he'll want to come out later. He's just not a morning person, like somebody else I know," Oliver winked.

Felicity huffed. "Not all of us can wake up so effortlessly looking like Adonis." She froze, her eyes sipping shut. "Ignore that." 

"No way." Oliver grinned. 

"Ever heard of being humble?"

"Not in my nature."

With a groan she swept out the door, Oliver behind her.The icy chill in the wind took her breath away but she was determined. Soon they were in a wooded clearing, their feet sinking into the fresh powder. It wasn't long after that they got to work, gathering snow and rolling it into balls. Felicity had never been a huge fan of the cold. Anything below fifty five to her required the whole nine yards of winter gear but to see Oliver so happy was worth every minute of discomfort. Sure their faces were windburned, their noses dripping like a leaky faucet but she had to agree. She'd never had so much fun.

An hour later they both stood back to examine their work. “He needs a nose.”

Oliver looked around finding a small rock and lifted it for her inspection. “How about this?”

“Perfect.” He added it their creation.

“Not too shabby,” Oliver commented.

“Considering I've never made one before? Yeah.”

Oliver turned to her, utter shock on his face. “You haven't?”

“There isn't snow in Vegas and when I was in college I was always studying. Didn't see the point in going outside by myself.”

“Well I'm glad I was your first-” Oliver stopped, shock changing quickly to horror. His already pink cheeks turning blood red. “I meant the snowman was your first, a first and that I did it with you and-”

Felicity who'd been holding back laughter let it all loose, bending over and holding her stomach. “See how it feels? Not so cute huh?” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I do believe I'm rubbing off on you. I apologize,” she said with a pat to his shoulder. “I love this so much. Oliver Queen, sexual innuendo specialist.”

“You're gonna be sorry you said that.”

“Who? Me?” She feigned innocence. Oliver leaned down and gathered a ball of snow. “You wouldn't.”

“I most definitely would.” With a scream she rushed to find cover, ducking behind a tree. “You can run but you can't hide.”

He started to get closer so she started inching her way around the trunk, trying to quiet her shallow breathing as she went. Taking a second she leaned down and gathered her own ball, hoping that she could sneak up behind him but as she rounded the tree there was no Oliver. Where had he gone? The thought had no more materialized when icy cold hit her right on her butt. She gasped and spun around to find Oliver grinning triumphantly. “It's on now!”

That's how to snowball fight- more like war started.

She was ducking behind another tree when Oliver threw another ball at her which she evaded while throwing her snowball at him. It clipped his shoulder and she fist pumped. The distraction was just long enough for him to reload and for her to attack him once more. Thea appeared over his shoulder, a huge ball of snow in her hand. She winked and Felicity saw her chance for domination.

Diversion plan activated.

“Owww!” Felicity cried suddenly as she fell to the ground, holding her ankle. Oliver dropped his ammo and ran to her, sliding on his knees the rest of the way.

“Felicity, what's wrong?” He demanded frantically, fingers probing her leg. “What hurts?”

“Your head.”

His brows drew together. “What?”

Thea tiptoed up behind her brother and she had one minute to appreciate the concern Oliver had exhibited before the girl was dropping the snow on his head.

“Thea!” Oliver yelled and he looked to Felicity, betrayal on his face. Both she and Thea burst into laughter as he tried to shake off the snow.

“Girl power!” Thea shouted, giving her a high five. “Mess with the bull you get the horns big brother.”

Tommy appeared, hands deep in his pockets to ward off the cold. “There's something really mean I can say about that reference but seeing as I want to join in I'll refrain.”

“I'm not the Devil Tommy.”

“Beg to differ.”

“Ouch.” Tommy rubbed his arm where Thea had punched him. “You know I'm sensitive Thea.”

“Sure you're not a girl Tommy?”

“Ha ha.”

“So you're not really hurt?” Oliver broke into the banter, attention focused on Felicity,

“Nope...all is fair in love and war,” the phrase passed her lips and she froze. “Not that we are in love or not in love, only very neutral feelings here,” she amended quickly which left Tommy and Thea staring, their brows knitted together.

Oliver's face was the definition of said neutral feelings as he offered his hand to help her up. “I'm just glad you're okay.”

Though it was just fun she still did feel remorseful. “Sorry I tricked you.”

A hand settled on her hip pulling her closer, the other lifting to pull a piece of ice from her hair, his cold fingers pausing on her cheekbones once it was removed. “Never apologize for a victory, tactics aside little minx.”

She slapped his chest lightly which caused her and him to stumble on a patch of snow. Her hands flew around Oliver's neck and he pulled her closer, steadying them both.

“That's getting to be a habit,” Oliver commented and they both started laughing oblivious to the wonderful show they were putting on for Moira and Laurel who had also joined them.

“Look's like you've all had great fun,” Moira called and they all started to make their way towards her. Tommy grumbling all the while that he didn't get to play. Thea told him that he approached snowball fights more like a _Call Of Duty_ game which tended to get dangerous for all. He didn't deny it. “You must all be freezing.”

A gust of wind blew through the trees and she pressed herself into Oliver's side. Not even Laurel's sourpuss expression at the movement could ruin the moment as she reveled in the warmth Oliver provided. “It was worth it,” he said, looking down on her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder.

Moira smiled. “Of course. I just saw Raisa and she was preparing brunch and hot chocolate.”

“Well I don't need to be told twice,” Tommy exclaimed speeding away.

“You weren't out here for twenty minutes Tommy,” Thea said exasperated, chasing after him.

“I don't have as much installation as you do,” he retorted as they went around the bend.

There was a shout and a noise that sounded like someone had fallen down. A loud exclamation by Thea came a few seconds later. “I am not fat!”

“Why are you so strong,” Tommy whined.

Moira shook her head. “Those two will be the death of me.”

“I'm not looking so bad now am I?” Oliver said.

Moira glanced at them, eyes lingering, no mistaking that approval she saw there. “Not at all.” She turned to Laurel. “Let's leave them be shall we?” There was no time for answer as she moved away taking a reluctant Laurel with her. Henley came bounding down the trail to join them, and they both welcomed him with a pat on the head.

Once they were gone Oliver turned to her. “So is there anything else you haven't done?”

“Snow Angels.”

Before she knew it her hand was being grabbed and tugged to a patch of soft snow where they proceeded to enjoy their time together, making memories that would last a lifetime, not even the offer of hot chocolate drawing them inside.

Eventually the cold became too much and brunch turned into a late lunch for them. Felicity didn't know when she'd has such fun, if ever.

 

* * *

 

After their morning in the snow Felicity had retired to the bedroom after a really hot shower, Oliver and Thea having been contracted by their Mother to take care of some last minute holiday details. She couldn't imagine there was anything else that needed to be done but who was she to talk. She usually only had a small tree, some lights and a Menorah.

Her mind couldn't stop going over the past hours. Spending the day with Oliver had to be one of her new favorite things. The way he took the time to teach her, from how to hold a football to the workings of a boat, to helping her knock things off her bucket list, like Snowball fight and Snow Angels. He hadn't, nor his family stopped surprising her since she'd arrived. She could feel an attachment growing as fast as the lies; and a sense of foreboding seemed to linger over her head like a full rain cloud.

She was on the bed, lying on her stomach alternating between reading through a book Oliver had given her about boats and thinking. The ring of her phone by her bedside pulled her from her thoughts and she quickly reached for it, amazed she had a signal for however long.

“Hello?” She answered and was greeted by Roy's loud voice, which she had proudly taught him.

_“Long time, no talk boss. You know I'm hurt, I thought I was your friend but no. You're living it up with the hoity and toity in some mansion lodge and I'm here slumming it in the office on a pre-holiday weekend. You could've at least called.”_

“What am I your mother?”

_“More like an older, very irritating sister that I never wanted.”_

“Is there a compliment in there somewhere?”

 _“If you want to look hard enough, knock yourself out. So...details, spill.”_ With a huff she went on to tell him the whole story, leaving nothing out....okay well a few little details. When she was finished he was silent for a while. _“Wow. That's- wow.”_

“I know right? None of it has been how I expected. I mean yeah they're rich but they're actually nice.”

On the other end of the line Roy started coughing and weird noises came through as though he'd dropped his phone. Finally he picked up again. _“I'm sorry, did you say nice? About the celebrity subjects of your story?”_

“Yeah...it's bad Roy. On top of the mounds of guilt I feel really icky, like some sleezy reporter and I've never really been that.”

_“Do I need to send in a SWAT team for extraction? I wonder if they'd let me help, I've been dying to use all of my Modern Warfare knowledge. I've got mad lingo skills.”_

“I don't think it's the same thing Roy, and no. No SWAT.”

_“Is there at least some gossip you can tell me to liven this convo up?”_

“Unless playing football and and raising money for charity is gossip.”

_“Seriously? There has to be something more.”_

“Sadly there usually is.” Felicity ran a hand through her hair. “I'm in this deeper than last years dunk tank Roy. There's no out and that means I have to go all the way.”

 _“Even though you actually like them?”_ More than liked them actually.

“I need a job, I won't have one if the Pulse closes and neither will you. Starling City is my home, I couldn't imagine being anywhere else, you understand that. I have to do it.”

Roy sighed. _“Okay Boss, call if you need anything, tissues, bail money, shoulder to cry on.”_

“Very funny Roy. You know I was going to set you up with a really nice girl I met but now...nope.”

_“Wait I didn't mean it. I've always been good to you!”_

“Sorry.” The bedroom door opened and Oliver stepped in, closing the door softly behind him so as not to disturb her, his hands were filled with what looked like shopping bags. She beckoned him in while listening to Roy whine in her ear.

_“Please, I'm desperate.”_

“Roy, you look like you stepped out of a freakin' Abercrombie catalog you can find a date.”

_“Come on Felicity! Have mercy on a lonely soul.”_

“I guess I could...he...Ro-you're break- u- can't he- you.” Then she ended the call, a smug little smile on her face.

“A friend?”

“Yep,” she laughed. “From work.”

“Did you really lose him or did you just say that?” Felicity adopted his earlier methods and wiggled her eyebrows. Oliver laughed.

“He's like my brother, I have to use tough love or he'll expect me to help him with everything.”

“If you ever need advice on the sibling front, I'm your guy,” he finished with a wink.

“I'll keep that in mind,” she laughed and pointed towards the bags. “What's those?”

Oliver glanced behind him. “They're for the Christmas Ball...did I tell you about that?”

“Christmas Ba- No you did not!” Did he expect her to go? She didn't even have anything to wear. “When is it?”

He winced, rocking back on his heels. "Tonight."

“Tonight,” she screeched. “Oliver you should have told me.”

“It's not that big a deal, it's just for one of my Mom's charity's.”

“Not a big deal, are you kidding me? It kinda is. I'm not prepared for a Christmas Ball that starts in-”

“Three hours,” he supplied and she fell back on the bed with a groan, her face in her hands. The next moment the bed was shifting as Oliver sat down next to her. “Felicity, I know. That's why Thea and I went to town, where she helped me find some things for you.” She peeked through her fingers, giving him a dubious look. “Okay so she picked out most everything.”

Felicity pulled her hands down and sat up. “You didn't have to do that Oliver.”

“I know, but I wanted too,” he replied softly. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It's the least I can do considering all you're doing for me.”

Felicity was glad he couldn't see her face because then he would've seen the guilt she felt. It took everything she had not to tense in his arms and found herself grateful for the next distraction.

“Break it up you lovebirds,” Thea whirled into the room before the proximity resulted in a deeper moment. “I've got a lot of work to do.”

“Gosh Thea, way to give a girl a compliment,” Felicity said with a pout.

“I think you look good no matter what you look like, even with snow and mud in your hair,” Oliver admitted, a grin stretching his face at the memory.

“Suck up.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

Thea grabbed his arm and started ushering him towards the exit, shoving his toiletry bag into his arms. “Skedaddle, and don't come back.” The tiny brunette then turned back to her, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Let's get started.”

An hour and a half later she'd been plucked, exfoliated and moisturized, hair curled and styled into an intricate updo and her makeup applied to perfection. Thankfully Thea had allowed her some liberty in choosing her own lipstick. She smiled as she picked up the tube and swiped it over her lips, they had been through quite the adventure together.

Thea laid a garment bag flat on the bed and began to remove the dress carefully. When it came into full sight she gasped. “Thea...” It was the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen.

“Oliver picked it out,” Thea's eyes sparkled. “He said red was your color.” Felicity's hands moved to her mouth. The only red he'd seen her in was the flannel shirt he'd lent her and her wool coat. A giggle escaped her mouth. “Ready?” She nodded enthusiastically.

Thea helped her slip into the dress, then the coordinating heels. She started to move to the mirror but the younger woman stopped her. “Finishing touches,” she said while wrapping a sparkling string of jewels around her neck along with matching earrings.

After a once over Thea nodded her approval and pushed her to stand in front of the mirror. Felicity's lips parted, her eyes locking on on her reflection. That couldn't be her. She hadn't looked like this in...well forever. There had never been a reason to get so dressed up, but now that there had she wanted to do it a whole lot more often.

The deep crimson gown hugged her curves in all the right places, the neckline flattering and grazing her collarbone. Her shoulders were bare, lace sleeves encasing her arms and falling at the perfect length. The skirt flowed freely, reaching a little past her ankles to hide her three inch heels.

When she turned to Thea her eyes were misty. “Thank you!”

“You deserve to feel like a Princess...plus I really just want to watch my brother's jaw drop when he see's you.”

Felicity didn't acknowledge the comment in favor of grabbing her clutch and dropping her lipstick inside. “Nothing you haven't seen before I'm sure.”

Thea shook her head. “When he looks at you Felicity...well it's hard to explain. It's like you're the sun and he's been cold a long time.”

Oliver didn't look at her like that...did he? “You're wrong Thea.”

“I'm never wrong, not when it comes to these things. Just wait,” she trailed off, slipping her own dress over her head.

Twenty minutes later she was walking down a grand staircase with a belly full of butterflies fluttering inside her, and focusing only on not tripping to her death. So encased on her own feet was she that she missed the looks of everyone waiting at the bottom. Having reached the last step she looked up, finding Oliver staring at her, his eyes taking in her body in the most appreciative manner. She'd never found someones appraisal to be so welcome, most guys only leered at her for her outward appearance but with Oliver she felt like he was truly seeing her for her.

Of course all of that ran through her thoughts in only a few seconds, seeing as her own gaze was locked on Oliver's appearance. The scruff that he'd been letting grow out, much to his mothers displeasure was now trimmed to a more appropriate length, shadowing his strong jaw, the dark blonde making his blue eyes stand out starkly. Then there the tuxedo: perfectly cut to fit his muscled body, black bow tie around his neck and suspenders peeking out of the yet unbuttoned jacket.

Felicity had always used the word 'hot' sparingly seeing as it was an unattractive word that did nothing to describe a person. Well....'hot as heck' was all that was coming to mind at the moment and she was one hundred percent sure that if she'd saw him while descending the stairs that she would have made a fool of herself.

Oliver buttoned his jacket and came forward, taking the hand that wasn't holding her clutch, looking quite choked up himself. After a long moment he cleared his throat. “Felicity, you look beautiful.” Not pretty, or hot, but beautiful and she'd never felt more so.

She flushed, her mind supplying another H word she could use to return her own thoughts. “You look very handsome.”

Oliver smiled and ducked his head most adorably before extended his elbow. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she agreed placing her hand on his offered arm, joining the rest of the family in the foyer a moment later. The rest of the family had seen the exchange at a distance, Moira all smiles at how happy her son seemed and Laurel with a scowl, one she hid every time Tommy looked her direction. Felicity ignored it all in favor of relaying her sentiments after Moira's praise before they retrieved their coats and all left for the cars. Thea sent her a look as she was sliding into Oliver's car, the woman mouthing 'Told you so,' winking and taking off to join her mother and Walter in their car.

So Oliver looked like he was drowning and she was the life preserver, that didn't mean anything. It couldn't. Because after she did a story on his family he'd never want to speak to her again. But was her job really worth betraying a family she'd grown to love? Had being alone so long stripped her of her compassion? Was she too driven?

So many questions berated her and so few answers came. Felicity pushed them away, she was determined to enjoy this night, because soon the man that looked at her with such joy would look at her with disdain and she didn't know if she'd survive that. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Oh What A Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank all of you for reading and commenting! I haven't got a chance to reply yet but I promise I will. I really appreciate you guys! ♥

* * *

 

 The Ball was in full swing, women in beautiful dresses and men in tuxes filling the hall that was decorated to the nines. Tall spruces stood, boughs weighed down with ornaments, lights cascaded down the walls and the smell of eggnog lingered in the air. Waiters in white suit coats carried around silver trays of champagne and people chatted in groups. A orchestra was set up in one corner of the room, a dance floor close by. The men were playing a beautiful instrumental version of _'Mary Did You Know'_ , the soft strains of the violin echoing throughout the space as it came to a close. As she looked around at all the smiling faces she know it was true, this was the most wonderful time of the year.

They spent the next hour mingling, Oliver introducing her to some of his friends and employees of Queen Consolidated. Moira and Walter made their rounds as well and she saw the loving look the man sent the former every time she wasn't looking. Tommy and Laurel had moved off to the dance floor and she found herself watching them. Laurel smiled as her boyfriend twirled her before pulling her back into his arms. Did the woman know that she had his love whether she deserved it or not? Why did she still want Oliver when she had something so pure right in front of her? Did she not feel the way his arms settled around her? It was something Felicity could only ever imagine for herself one day, more and more so since her time with Oliver.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Felicity was startled from her musings by Oliver.

“Oh just people watching,” she answered lamely.

His eyes flitted to the dance floor then back to her. “Do you want to dance?”

Her brows rose. “I thought you said you didn't dance?” He'd said as much on their ride over.

Oliver turned to her, extending his hand. “Ever since I met you I keep finding myself doing things I normally don't.”

Not hesitating even a second at the opportunity she placed her small hand in his large one. “I hope that's a good thing.”

He squeezed her fingertips, pulling her out onto the floor as another tune started up, this time _'The First Noel'_. “I didn't think so at first...” One warm palm settled on her hip as he pulled her close.

“And now?” She questioned, her hand landing on his chest.

“Now...I couldn't imagine doing anything else.” Her heart beat a staccato against her ribs, breath hitching as she tucked her head under his chin. It was then she decided that any story written about his family wouldn't be one of gossip, or what Sebastian wanted. It would be the truth, about how much the Queen's did that no one had seen, so consumed with their outward image. The man that held her in his arms now was layered, a diamond in the rough and the most kind and generous men she'd ever met. Whatever woman eventually captured his heart would be tremendously lucky.

Despite Oliver's insistence that he didn't dance, one dance turned into two, two into three, his arms bringing her ever closer each passing song. Few words were exchanged during their time together, both of them basking in the closeness. Even Laurel's dirty glares couldn't bring her down and by the end of the song she was the most relaxed she'd ever felt. Being in his arms...well it felt like coming home. Just for tonight she allowed that dream to settle in her bones.

“For a man that doesn't dance I've escaped virtually unscathed,” Felicity exclaimed as they both came to stand at the edge of the dance floor.

He chuckled. “Virtually?”

“Well there was that one time you dipped me, I was sure I would end up on the floor,” she teased.

“I'd never drop you Felicity,” he assured, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles.

Her lips parted at the heat that filled his gaze, she was tempted to drag him into the hall and kiss him. The thought had no more materialized before Thea appeared, hands on her hips. “Now that I know that you won't kill me, it's my turn,” she said, tugging on his arm. Thea had informed her that tonight she'd try to find a time to tell Oliver about her boyfriend Alex, possibly introduce them formally later. On the dance floor presented the best place because she worried he'd make a scene, Felicity knew better though. Oliver was beginning to accept the fact that his baby sister wasn't a baby anymore. She knew he'd deploy the big brother act but that he wouldn't infringe upon her relationship.

She smiled as she watched them twirl around to an upbeat son, Thea pausing once to complain about him stepping on her foot. During a casual sweep of the room she spotted Walter, who for the first time of the night wasn't as Moira's side. Slowly she made her way through the crowd, appearing at his side, her eyes following his gaze across the room until they landed on the woman he'd been parted from. Sensing her he turned, a ready smile on his face.

“Felicity, you look spectacular.”

“Thank you, you clean up quite nicely yourself. Do you know who else looks spectacular?” Walter blinked, confusion clear on his face. She pointed to Moira. “I think you should ask her to dance.”

Walter shook his head. “No, I couldn't.”

“Why, you don't think she want's to dance...with her lifelong friend?”

He smiled softly, warring with himself for a few long minutes. “I suppose when you put it that way, it doesn't seem quite so frightening.”

A triumphant smile played on her face as he wound his way to Moira, the woman shyly taking Walter's hand when offered. When they began to sway softly she turned away in search of the bathroom. After asking for directions she made her way down another staircase, shocked when she saw who was at the bottom and in deep conversation with another man. Her nails bit into her palm as she rushed down the remaining steps. Cooper excused himself and took off. She saw him slip behind a column and followed him, him trying to escape as they rounded it a few times. Finally, he gave up and came to a stop.

“You!” She pushed a finger into his chest.

He rubbed at the spot. “First: ow. Second, yes me!”

“Are you stalking me?” She demanded and he tried to dodge away from her but she used her newfound football skills to block him.

“I'm stalking my story.”

“What story?” She scoffed. “No ones engaged.”

“Tommy Merlyn brings home his best friends ex-girlfriend as his new girlfriend.” Cooper crossed his arms. “Come on Felicity, that is a story.”

“Yeah an old one,” she retorted, hearing the music begin to die down upstairs she gathered her dress. “Catch up Cooper.”

His face screwed up as she hurried away. “That's not your color,” he called after her.

"Oh bite me," she muttered under her breath as she ascended the stairs.

If she had stuck around a bit longer she would've seen the person lurking in the corner.

 

* * *

 

Returning to the ballroom she was happy to see that Walter and Moira were still dancing and that off in a corner Thea had introduced Alex to Oliver, all seemed to be talking cordially. Felicity was fixing to join them when she felt a hand on her arm stopping her.

Laurel, fake smile in place, hooked an arm around her elbow. “Felicity, you look lovely,” the woman said polite as a sneer before going on. “Who was that man you were talking to? It seemed like you knew him.”

Her heart stopped for a moment before going on. “Oh just someone looking for the bathroom,” she answered nonchalantly, starting to slip away from her, again she was stopped and this time turned towards the other woman.

“You may think because you have Oliver you're in the cabaret seat but that's just a temporary.” Oh so now the true colors finally showed. Felicity would have to admit she was growing tired of the act.

“Well you would know Laurel,” she said in turn, her own fake smile plastered to her face. “Excuse me.” This time when she pulled away she did so more forcefully and she left the woman standing behind her, glaring daggers into her back.

In desperate need of drink she finally found a waiter who got her a nice glass of water. Sobriety was needed if she was going to escape this evening cover intact and alcohol had been proven to loosen her already free tongue. Across the room she saw Laurel tugging Oliver onto the dance floor causing her hand to tighten on the crystal glass she held.

Now she was really regretting that whole 'No alcohol' decision.

 

* * *

 

As the son of a billionaire, he'd been to a lot of parties but never in all his life had he actually enjoyed one; and that was all thanks to Felicity. After he'd gotten over his initial nervousness he'd been able to be more confident which led to asking her to dance where for fifteen glorious minutes he'd been allowed to hold her in his arms. Every time he caught sight of her his breath caught at her beauty, and not just her outer shell. In her every move she exhibited light, in the way she walked, talked, laughed, smiled. One would have never guessed that by some standards she didn't belong there. Elegant is one word that came to mind to describe her. Her interactions with anyone she came in contact with was genuine and that particular trait, that light was starting to affect his family in the best way possible. Felicity didn't know it but she'd reeled him in, hook, line and sinker as well.

After their time on the floor she'd disappeared and though he caught sight of her a few times, once speaking with Walter, another time with Laurel-he wandered what that was about. The only way he could explain how he felt when she wasn't around was anxious. For some reason he felt at complete ease with her nearby, calm and relaxed which made him less alert, more willing to savor the things around him, including her attention.

Someone had caught his attention, asking him about the annual shareholders meeting at Queen Consolidated and when he finally managed to excuse himself he had every intention of seeking her out. Reclaiming that peace he'd had the first half of the evening. In his search, a sea of faces swimming in front of him a flash of red caught his eye and when he followed that red up he was more than pleased to see that it belonged to the woman he'd desired. He'd put one foot in her general direction when a hand caught his arm and pulled him towards the dance floor. A noise of discontent escaped his throat before he'd even seen who so rudely had thwarted his action.

Finding himself in Laurel's grasp was very disconcerting and the only thing that kept him from pulling away from her was causing a scene. A large majority of the people at the Ball knew that he'd dated her for a better part of his twenties and the last thing he needed to draw attention to an already sensitive situation. He hoped Tommy wouldn't think he was trying anything, if so he'd be more than happy to explain why he and Laurel were never going to happen.

“You need to loosen up Oliver,” she admonished. “Relax, I'm not going to bite.”

Laurel had positioned them close and he backed away a bit, holding her a loosely as possible. “Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

“What exactly do you know about Felicity...” His eyes that had been avoiding her this far snapped down. “Smoa...li...,” she stumbled over the name. “Whatever.”

“What prompted that?” It was always something with Laurel and her asking questions couldn't be a good sign.

“Curiosity,” she replied, her hand that had been around his shoulder moving to his neck. He shrugged it off.

“It's none of your business Laurel.”

She looked hurt at his harsh tone but he knew better than to take her seriously.

“Of course it's my business,” she insisted. “I care about your family Ollie.”

The old nickname rankled him more than he already was and he considered dropping her right then and there. He was not 'Ollie' anymore and didn't appreciate being addressed as such.

“I've missed you,” Laurel went on. “I didn't realize how much until I actually saw you.”

Laurel had been known to lie and he'd usually been able to determine when she did. What scared him the most was that her words actually sounded authentic. He remained speechless, unsure of what to say to defuse the moment. For him, it was over, even if she wasn't with his best friend. Words continued to evade him and he feared that he just might swallow his tongue. Times like these were when he really needed Felicity. When had he come to rely on her so much?

Thankfully he was saved from having to respond by Tommy appearing. “Mind if I borrow my girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, releasing Laurel to him who then proceed to spin her away. It amazed him how she could slip right back into her role as Tommy's devoted girlfriend, smiling and giggling like she hadn't just admitted she still had feelings for him. He was torn. Should he tell his best friend? They were already on shaky footing and though he wasn't exactly thrilled with him at the moment feared losing him permanently to Laurel's indecision. Before her tension between him and Tommy was nonexistent, now it seemed to follow wherever Laurel went and whoever she was with.

Before he could make it to Felicity, Tommy had signaled for the maestro to quiet the music and drew her to the center of the dance floor, his hands holding hers. Oliver could see the nervous energy running through him. The couples around them had stopped to witness the display in front of them and others had gathered closer. Whatever was coming was big.

“Laurel,” Tommy started, looking lovingly into her eyes. “You are the most amazing woman I've ever met. You are beautiful, you are smart, you're the kind of special person that stays up all night making Gingerbread Houses for charity.” Laurel lifted her hand to cover a laugh.

“And I know that this may seem sudden,” Tommy glanced around before he continued. “To a lot of people, but not to me.” He bent down onto one knee, bringing forth a velvet box from his pocket and opening the lit to reveal a sparkling diamond ring the likes he'd never seen. “Dinah Laurel Lance, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Laurel looked down, an unsure expression crossing her face. He could see a vein popping out on the sign of her neck. Somewhere a camera flash went off and if he'd actually cared he may have put a stop to the invasion of privacy. She looked up at him for only a fraction of a second, but still she must have saw that her advances were unwelcome and turned back to Tommy, a soft exhale of 'Yes' coming from her parted lips.

The room broke into applause, every person clapping for the so called happy couple as they kissed. They didn't know how messed up they actually were. Suddenly he felt like he couldn't breathe, the room had become stifling and too many people were surrounded him. As he turned he caught sight of the distraught expression of his Mother but payed it no heed in his desperation to flee. The orchestra started back up as he weaved through the crowd, faces turning into blurs as he passed.

Oliver was down the stairs and almost home free when he heard his name being called. He was so lost in his own head that he didn't recognize the voice but when abruptly came to a stop in the entryway. Slowly he turned to find Felicity, the long skirt of her dress in hand from descending the stairs at such a fast pace. He could see that she was distressed and realizing that it was for him was a blow in itself.

“Felicity,” he breathed, unable to control the emotion of which the one word conveyed.

Then she was there, standing in front of him, one hand lying softly on his chest. “Are you okay?” The tiny palm burned through his shirt and he laid his hand atop it, slipping his fingers between hers. For some reason in that moment all he could think of was dancing with her again, feeling her close, erasing the feel of Laurel in his arms from his memory. Felicity instantly wrapped herself around him, her other hand coming to rest at his nape while her other was still held to his chest.

There in the entryway they swayed to the distant strains of music, her heartbeat reverberating through him. His eyes slipped shut, his forehead resting against hers and he just focused on the feeling of her, the smell of her perfume, the softness of her skin. This must be what it feels like to fall in love.

That's all it took to open his eyes, when he did he found that hers were closed but feeling his gaze her's too opened. All he could see in their depths was the urge to comfort, to just be there, so he wasn't surprised by her next question. “It still stings doesn't it?”

“Not as much lately.” Her mouth gave a small smile.

“Why'd you break up?” She urged softly.

“After we started dating my name started showing up in the gossip pages like never before and hasn't since we separated. Then my Dad died and the tabloid moved in like vultures, reporting every private detail. I don't know,” he shook his head. “She was using me all along, to become her own celebrity.”

Felicity's eyes dropped, looking over his shoulder. He could see tears gleaming in the corners and wished he knew how to banish them. “It must be hard,” she started, blinking a few times. “Not knowing who you can trust.”

“Hey,” he called, when she avoided him she lifted her chin gently bringing her blue orbs to his. “I trust you.”

“Oliver,” she began, her voice quaking.

He pushed on, determined to make her see how he felt. “I know, I barely know you but...how can you not trust someone willing to do something,” he gestured to them. “This nuts to help another person?” Felicity looked away again, her lashes fluttering, chest heaving. And then as if to finish the heavy moment, there hanging from the doorway was a sprig of mistletoe. “Oh...”

“What?” She asked him, concern evident in her voice.

He grinned. “You said it yourself, we were bound to get caught under the mistletoe at some point.”

Her head whipped around and up to see the familiar green plant, a huff slipping from her lips. When she turned back to him his hands came up to cup her cheeks, thumbs roving over the pink flesh. His own heart galloped in his chest as waited for her permission, her tongue peeked out to wet her lips and he didn't need any further approval before he molded his mouth to hers. They were already so close but she reached out and pulled on the suspenders under his jacket until they were chest to chest, their galloping hearts beating together.

Oliver had kissed a lot of women, and he'd felt stirrings of things but never anything that broke the dam. He'd heard of the elusive true love kiss, scoffed at the idea that it could actually exist, laughed at those who insisted that it did. But right then, in that moment all past humor was sucked from him as a pair red lips worked over his. This was coming home. His fingers were just starting to tangle in her hair, an uneasy feat considering it was in an updo when she pulled away from him, her face flushed further, breaths coming in pants.

“Oliver I-,” she broke off in a gasp. “I'm...I'm sorry.” Then she was running from him and he felt like his heart had been carved out of his chest. Had he pushed to hard? Went too far? Said too much?

So many thoughts raced through his mind, the one most prevalent was that she would leave and that he would never see her again. After all he didn't really know all that much about her, not where she lived or worked, or if she had anyone in her life other than her friend Roy. Yet even in the few days that he'd known that all his life that there had been a Felicity shaped hole inside him just waiting for her to fill it.

That's why he raced after her, her named falling from his lips on multiple occasions but so many obstacles got thrown in his path and by the time he reached the hall their was no sign of her. His mother saw him and came alongside him.

“Is everything alright darling?”

“Have you seen Felicity?” He asked, eyes still scanning the hall for the blonde.

“Yes, she and Thea were both quite spent. They drove home in our car, I told them that it was fine and that Walter and I would catch a ride with you....” She paused, searching his face. “Is that alright?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn't leave, not with her car still in the shop, the mechanics having had to order a part.

“Of course Mom,” he reassured her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I have a few more people to speak with. What do you say we head out after?”

“That sounds great Mom, thanks.”

She nodded before starting her final rounds. Leaving couldn't come soon enough though he didn't know what he'd say when come face to face with the woman who'd started to steal his heart.

 

* * *

 

It was all too much. The lie had started small and now had grown to epic proportions. Absolutely everything in her life at the current moment was one big fib and if that didn't just make her feel sick. Especially now... Oh gosh, how had she let this happen? She was only supposed to find out which of the billionaires were getting engaged, not tumble into one of their arms and dare she admit it...fall in love with him. How was that even possible? People didn't fall in love with near strangers in a few days. There were so many little details that either made or broke a relationship and she hadn't even scratched the surface of who Oliver Queen was, so how could she say, in all honesty, that she loved him when she didn't know him? Heck, it took her months to break in a new pair of heels and figure out if they were really worth wearing. People were much, much more complicated that footwear.

Anxiety welled in her breast and she sucked in a breath, and then another trying to slow her pounding heart. She could barely string together one thought without it breaking off into another more complicated one. One big mess, that's what it was. Should she run? Forget the promotion, lose her job no doubt or should she stay, finish out whatever this was. Oliver's words about reporters and being unable to trust people came to mind. Either way she looked at it she would be losing Oliver. There was no way she could start a real relationship with him on a lie and telling him would mean losing him forever.

She tossed and turned for what seemed like forever, the bed feeling empty with Oliver. He'd never came home, or if he did never came to bed. Had she already lost him? Did the kiss reveal to him that any feelings he thought he had were nothing? The ache in her chest grew worse. Finally, she'd had enough and tossed the blankets off, slipping into her boots and jacket before going downstairs and venturing out onto the cold veranda. There was a bench she'd seen that looked good for thinking and she hoped that with it combined with the frigid air might clear her head. Surprisingly when she came close she realized the bench was already occupied. She was starting to back away when Moira noticed and beckoned her over.

“I don't want to disturb you,” she said when she got close.

“Not at all, please sit,” Moira asked, wrapping her blanket around her tighter. “Warm enough?”

With a smile she crossed her arms against the chill. “I think so.”

“Did you have a good time tonight?” Despite it all? Yes, it was one of the greatest nights of her life.

“I did,” she replied honestly. “You?”

“All things considered, I did as well.” Moira looked out onto the night. “It was nice to dance, and laugh again.”

“I'm glad. I know it's really important to Oliver...and Thea that you have a good Christmas.”

“You care about him...don't you?” The older blonde acknowledged.

Her breath fanned around her when she exhaled. “He's such an amazing man.” Moira nodded, a smile playing on her lips. “He's not at all what I expected,” she said more to herself, sadly it wasn't.

“Expected?”

“Oh, well when I met him,” she corrected quickly. “But now of course I expect how amazing he is.” They both laughed. It diedd off at Moira's next question.

“How are you with Laurel being here?” Not fine at considering the woman was a snake in the grass. She wouldn't be that bold though Moira would probably agree.

“Fine, uh it's a little unusual.”

“To say the least,” Moira added before sighing. “When Tommy's parents died he practically moved in with us and he became another son to me. Him and Oliver always shared everything, except women until Laurel. Both of my sons having dated the same woman and now one of them's engaged to her? Who knows what the tabloids will say.”

Felicity mulled everything she'd said over, especially what she'd said about the tabloids. Though the Pulse wasn't a glorified gossip rag she knew that the story, if it were to be contributed about the Queen's would make it such. It would start a game of dominoes that she wasn't willing to play. If she didn't stand up now, would it ever stop? Would she ever want that promotion at such a disreputable place that destroyed lives and reputations?

“I'm sure it won't be too bad, not in today's age with the Kardashian's. Something new and more interesting will come along and the story will be swept under the rug.” Exactly where it should be in the first place. Haven't these families been through enough without reporters putting their noses where it doesn't belong?

“Yes but unlike the Kardashian's we don't want publicity. Of course that makes us more of a target.”

“True,” she agreed, a pang shooting through her stomach.

“But perhaps maybe you're right, it would take something more salacious to get peoples attention.” Moira hesitated, measuring her words. “Like Laurel also having propositioned my husband.”

Her jaw dropped, the news leaving her utterly flabbergasted. “Whoa, that happened?”

Moira nodded sadly. “It was years before Oliver and Laurel started dating.”

“How'd you find out?”

“I saw her,” she huffed a little. “And I also saw her get rejected and escorted to the door by Robert, never to return or so I assumed.”

“Well...that's uh...”

“Salacious,” Moira finished.

“Yeah,” she said, still in disbelief. Laurel really would dig her claws into anyone...or at least attempt in Robert's case. “How can you even stand to have her under the same roof as you?” She shuttered a little. “Especially after...”

“It isn't easy...but I'm a firm believer in things working out as they should.”

Felicity took those words into her heart, in hopes that maybe, just maybe it was true.

 

* * *

 


	9. Love Like This Don't Last Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this chapter took so long. I would blame the drama of 4x15 but really it was just me being dramatic in real life. :)

* * *

It had taken hours for her to fall asleep, still holding onto the hope that Oliver would show up, but he never had and she'd finally fallen drifted off. When she woke the next morning it didn't escape her noticed that she'd rolled to his side of the bed. After checking the clock and finding it still early she collapsed against the pillows. There was no way she'd be able to go back to sleep now, still too restless. Eventually she forced herself from the bed, Oliver's blueprints catching her eye on her way to the window. Like a bolt of lightning and idea struck her and she wondered how she hadn't thought of it before.

John Diggle, Lyla's soon-to-be husband, had served in the Navy, and after his release started up his own business. He dabbled in mainly in construction but most recently- his military roots being as deep as his love for the water,- had expressed an interest in shipbuilding, but without a start up partner hadn't been able to afford it. Could Oliver be the key he'd been missing? Could Diggle be the person to make Oliver's dream a reality?

Quickly she rolled the plans out flat and snapped a few pictures before attaching them, Oliver's contact information and strict instructions to keep her involvement secret, to an email to be sent to John. She may have been overstepping her bounds but had been unable to stop herself from pressing the send button. Her hands shook lightly and she nearly jumped from her skin when he phone rang. Luckily it was just Roy.

 _“You did what?”_ He asked incredulously, after she'd informed him of what she'd done. _“Without telling Oliver?”_

“It's just for professional feedback, and thought maybe if Digg told Oliver it was good then he could convince him to pursue his dream openly.”

Roy sighed heavily. _“I hope you're keeping tract of your ongoing deceptions. May I suggest a flow chart?”_

A whine ripped from her throat. “It's bad isn't it?” She rubbed a hand over her face. “What is wrong with me?”

_“You're a reporter Felicity, you're supposed to be sneaky.”_

“I know, it's just I don't like doing it, not with him.” Roy gasped. “What?”

_“You didn't!”_

“Did what?”

_“You fell in love with your subject.”_

“Did not,” she denied too quickly, her voice high.

 _“Yes you did. When you don't want to admit something your voice get's all squeaky and I can practically see the wrinkles on your forehead now.”_ Her fingers move to her head to indeed find it creased. _“I'm the one person in your life right now that you don't have to lie to.”_

“Roy...what do I do?”

_“Run away, changed your name, maybe consider a dye job?”_

“Not helping.”

_“Felicity, you're the best woman I know. Just follow your heart.”_

“Did you get that off a Dove wrapper?”

_“Oprah. That's what happens when you leave me alone too long.”_

“You need a girlfriend.”

_“Speaking of-”_

Her phone beeped signaling an incoming call. “Sorry Roy, Lyla's calling and I should at least clear up one lie by omission today.”

Roy grunted. _“Good luck, call if you need medical attention.”_

She switched over to her best friends line. “Lyla...I have something to tell you.”

 

* * *

 

How was it possible to miss something you'd only had once? That thing being sharing a bed with Felicity. When he'd arrived home he'd thought about seeking her out, worried that somehow she'd slipped through his fingers but Thea had informed him that she was already in bed. Not willing to disturb her much needed space he made his way to the office where he attempted sleep on the sofa. It wasn't soft, or warm and it didn't smell like Felicity's body wash. Eventually he'd fallen into a fitful sleep, where he'd dreamed that she'd taken off, never to be seen again. Waking from that nightmare had been enough for him to abandon the idea of sleep.

When he thought about it, really thought about it was ridiculous. He was tied up in knots over a woman, one he barely knew. So much so he was actually terrified she was going to leave him. He'd laughed sardonically at the thought. Later on after a long hot shower and rustling himself up something to eat he'd settled on the living room couch, setting the television on a game he had no desire to watch. It was a distraction, something that didn't require much thought. Unlike every other aspect of his life at the current moment.

He must have fallen asleep because when he woke later on it was to a blonde staring down at him, a crinkle between her eyebrows. “Hi,” she greeted shyly.

“Hi...”

“We should-” she began at the same time he started. “Can we-” They both shared a smile. “You first,” he said.

She chewed on her bottom lip, which immediately drew his eye. “Um..how did you sleep?”

The question surprised him but if she wasn't ready to really talk yet he wouldn't push her. A small huff escaped him before he answered, “Alright. You?”

“Okay...” she trailed off, gaze moving towards the TV. “Missed your snoring.”

He leaned his head on his hand, turning her way. “Missed yours too.”

Felicity gasped, her pretty little mouth forming a perfect O right before she grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “I do not snore,” she exploded.

“Ow. Yes you do,” he picked up his own pillow to protect himself from another attack.

“Do not,” she denied shaking her head.

“Do too. It's this cute little snore, more like a purr.”

“Oliver!” He hit her with the pillow and she returned the fire. Next thing he knows she's laying back on the couch and he's hovering above her, his fingers tickling her side relentlessly, her loud clear laughter ringing through the room drowning out the sound of the game. She seemed to realize their position the same time he does and her giggles turned to little gasps. “Oliver,” she whispered, the sound of her lips forming his name making his breath leave him in a whoosh.

“Felicity,” he sighed, eyes roaming over her face. “You're beautiful.” And then he was leaning down, hungry for the feeling of her mouth on his. His lips had barely brushed over her own when she pulled back. His eyes opened, concerned that he might have hurt her but she was staring up at him, an expression of dread on her face.

“Oliver,” she continued, her voice hushed. “I need to tell you something...before this goes any farther.”

His hand came up, fingers stroking across her cheekbones. “You can tell me anything.”

Felicity chest expanded under his. “I-” She only just began when they got interrupted. He barely contained a groan when Tommy came barreling into the room, Gingerbread House in hand.

“Break it up you two. You're making me blush and that is no easy feat.”

“Tommy, you couldn't have waited five more minutes?” He then realized how that sounded. “Don't answer that.” He tossed a look Felicity's way, she'd noticed the slip and was pressing her lips together, her face bright red.

“Anyways it being so close to Christmas and game day and all I decided to bring in some snacks.” He gestured to the house. “I know it's not traditional but hey it's food, not art.” Tommy clapped his hands before breaking off a piece an handing it to him and Felicity who took it like it was a live grenade. “And I spent a lot of money on it so eat up.”

“Umm Tommy,” Felicity piped up. “I don't think-” And then he took a big bite which he immediately spit out. Luckily Oliver had taken his cue from Felicity and hadn't.

“What is that?”

“I think it is art Tommy,” Oliver found himself choking on a laugh.

Tommy's finger prodded at a tooth. “I think I chipped a veneer.”

Moira and Walter appeared. “Oh are we eating this now?” His mother asked, reaching for a piece.

“No,” they all shouted at once, Felicity's hand batting her's away.

Tommy got up. “Mrs. Q, is my veneer okay?” He opened his mouth wide and his Mom just rolled her eyes. Walter leaned in and shook his head, signaling that all was well.

Henley who'd wondered in sometime during the event had grabbed a piece which he too soon spit out and now laid behind a house plant, as if he was scared he'd be forced to clean up more of the concrete like concoction.

“What's wrong with Henley?” Thea questioned with a worried glance at the dog as she entered the room. She peered down at the Gingerbread House. “Well I always knew she was out to poison us. Paris my-”

“Thea,” Mom warned, her eyebrow rising. He could tell that she didn't really mean it though.

They were all in relaxed conversation when Laurel stalked into the room, hand reaching for the remote and powering off the TV.

“Hey, the game,” Tommy protested.

“I need your attention,” she announced her hands moving behind her back.

“As opposed to any other time,” Thea snorted.

Laurel shot Thea a look. “I have something very important that I want to share with you.” Seeing she had everyone's attention allowed her to forge on. “It gives me no pleasure to be the bearer of this news, but you've all been lied too.”

The room exchanged confused glances. What on earth was she talking about? It then occurred to him. What if she'd found out about his and Felicity's ruse. He was just about to drag her from the room when she pointed a finger at the blonde.

“This woman is a spy!” Laurel shouted.

“Like...she works for the CIA...” He turned to Felicity. “If so does that mean you have a license to kill cause that would be awesome.”

“No!” Laurel stuttered angrily. “Not like an actual spy-spy. She is a reporter...from Pulse.”

It took him awhile to process her words, so relived that he hadn't discovered their lie...but wait. What?

“She works for a gossip magazine and had been here gathering information on us to do a story,” Laurel accused further.

It was like his brain shut off. That couldn't be true. No, Felicity wasn't a reporter. She'd never betray him, he knew her, he trusted her. His found himself turning to her and what he saw filled his stomach with led. Guilt. All over her face.

“That is quite an accusation,” his mother added, breaking through the fog that had overtaken him.

“I saw her...speaking to the same man at both the Charity Event and the Christmas Ball. When I discovered that this man was a reporter I did some searching of my own and found out that Felicity...Smoak is it?” Felicity was frozen, her eyes filled with tears. “Was in fact a reporter.”

“Yeah...but she's dating Oliver,” Tommy defended.

He didn't understand it. Has it possible? Their meeting hadn't seemed planned. She'd fallen down a mountain in a wedding dress knocking herself unconscious. She couldn't have planned something like that? Could she? The love that had been building under the surface turned into red hot betrayal. How could she, after everything they'd shared- well he'd shared. Felicity had never really opened up to him, as much as he would have liked. And that was it wasn't it. For so long he'd been alone, drowning in the emptiness that had become his life. Felicity was so unique, she'd opened up a place in his heart that he didn't even know existed. He hadn't even thought twice about falling for her, and he had...hard. But she was just another person after a story, another reporter willing to ruin lives for her own gain. A stabbing pain knifed through him, and his tongue finally became unglued as his gaze bored into the woman he'd thought could be trusted.

“Oliver-” she pleaded, a tear dripping onto her now deathly pale cheek.

“No Tommy, we're not dating.” He rose from the couch, Felicity's hand gripping his arm.

“Please, I was trying-” Felicity began to beg but he pulled away, noticing Laurel's smug smile as he whirled on her.

“All this was a lie.” She flinched as his words and he had to turn away, instead looking at his family. “How we met, her being here, all of it made up because Tommy brought my ex-girlfriend home without warning.”

“I tried to call!”

Oliver glanced back at Felicity. “The car getting stuck, the runaway snow bride stuff...that was pretend.”

“No,” Felicity stood, her hands reaching for him but he backed away. He saw the instant that broke her but couldn't find it in him to care. “The car did get stuck Oliver.”

“I thought you'd done all this to help me, that you were a good person but you were just getting access. Just like...” his hand lifted Laurel's direction and he saw Felicity take in a sharp breath.

The whole room stilled, the only sound Felicity's heavy breaths as she became close to hyperventilating. Was that a farce too? He was surprised Thea hadn't said a word, she'd always hated being lied too, yet she stood silent while the woman she'd started to call friend act was being torn down before her.

Felicity eyes remained closed for a long while as she got her breathing under control and when she did open them he could see she was ready to be honest. “What Laurel said is true, I am a reporter and I was assigned a story based on a tip that either a Queen or Merlyn had bought an engagement ring.

“You're doing a story about me,” Laurel burst out, wrapping her arms around herself. “I feel so violated.” So self centered she was as his whole world imploded around him.

“I was assigned to find out what I could..”

“And what did you find out,” his mother questioned, a gentleness that he hadn't expected in her voice.

More tears spilled forth as Felicity sniffed. “That you are a family, a wonderful family that has gone through so much but has come out the other side stronger for it. I was wrong to have ever assumed that you'd just be people who cared only for yourselves. My whole life I've always wanted to judge for myself rather than rely on others opinions, it's why I became a reporter...yet for some reason I didn't give you all a fair chance. I was too caught up in my prejudices and I was wrong...so wrong.”

During her speech he'd gone to the window, not able to look at her as she plead her case. His heart was so hard that he feared he'd say something he might live to regret.

“I'm so sorry. So very, very sorry. But I will make sure that no story is printed about you...not by me.”

Much to his surprise, despite what he felt inside his next words came out detached and emotionless. “Your car was dropped off this morning...you can leave now.”

A minutes passed before he heard her get up, muttering apologies as she did. The last thing he heard as she left was the sound of her boots hitting the floor as she hurried up the stairs to grab her things. Five minutes later the door slammed behind shut behind her, just like his heart.

 

* * *

 

The pain was unbearable; and seeing the betrayed looks on everyone's faces had made it even worse. Thea had spared her a look as she'd passed her, though she hadn't been decipherable. It hadn't looked like hate but it did come close. Laurel had tried to keep a smug grin off her face but had been unable to accomplish it. Tommy just looked confused, sitting in his chair casting looks at Laurel. Moira's face was neutral and Walter's of course held pity. The lies that had been building exploded right in her face. She couldn't say she hadn't been warned.

What hurt the most was that Oliver wouldn't even look at her. Was he really so disgusted with her now? When mere minutes ago he'd tried to kiss her, and the night before had done so, admitting he had some kind of feelings for her. They hadn't even gotten to clear that up before it had all come to an end. She couldn't really blame him for hating her- she hated herself for what she'd done.

Still she couldn't find it in her to regret what had happened. Had it not she never would have met Oliver or his family. In a short time they had shifted her world, and it was a change in her that would stay, regardless whether they were in her life or not. The effects of her lies would affect every part of her life, mostly her job but she would freely give it if that meant that no one would pry into the personal lives of the Queen's or Merlyns. She deserved what was coming for her.

After she'd gathered her things she'd left, the door closing behind her breaking a piece inside her. Furiously she wiped away tears lest they freeze on her face and made her way down the icy stairs. Just like Oliver had said her car was sitting in the drive, keys sitting in the cup holder. Setting the bag on the ground she cranked the vehicle and turned the heat up full blast. She was climbing inside when someone called, she turned to find Walter gesturing for her to wait while he reentered the house. When he returned he held Lyla's wedding dress that he'd sent off to town for rush alterations.

“Thank you Walter,” she said with a sniffle, a small smile breaking through at the sight of the dress. It didn't look anything like it had before but it was still the same gown. At least Lyla hadn't liked in the first place.

The man dropped his head in acknowledgment. “Drive carefully, okay?” He laid a hand on her shoulder briefly before leaving her once more.

The drive home was made in silence, no radio, no music or phone calls. Just her and her traitorous thoughts. The fight that was taking place in her mind was sure to leave her bruised and bloodied but she didn't care. Eventually the tears stopped and in it's place was a numbness unlike she'd ever felt before. Even when her Dad left, she'd had pain but never like this. She wondered if she'd ever feel anything again, if this was the final nail in the coffin for her.

After countless hours on the road, she arrived home. Entering the small townhouse caused a chill to rack her body that turning up the heat wouldn't chase away. It felt empty, hollow after the fullness she'd just experienced. But this was to be her life now.

That night when she climbed in bed she could almost fool herself into thinking that she wasn't alone, not with all the pillows she thrown on the mattress to fill the empty place. It did no good and at three am she woke with her arm reached out, searching for a person who wasn't there and never would be again. The rest of the night was spent staring at the ceiling.

Tomorrow she would start over, so just for the night she allowed herself to wallow in sorrow.

 

* * *

 

 

“Felicity! What on earth-” Lyla screeched causing her to wince.

“I don't think your Mom will notice,” she commented from her spot behind her.

Lyla who'd been examining the dress glanced over her shoulder. “It doesn't have sleeves.”

Felicity pointed at the garment. “Yes, but the stains are out.” Lyla sighed. “I love you?”

The woman shook her head, lifting up the hanger for a closer look. “Honestly?” Felicity held her breath waiting for the final verdict. “I love it!”

She blinked. “Wait...you do?”

“I think it look's great, there's just enough of my Mom's dress to make her happy and it's updated enough to make me happy. And of course the major plus is that there aren't anymore of those horrid puffed sleeves.”

Felicity deflated, sinking down onto her couch. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear it Lyla.”

She smiled and dropped onto the seat beside her. “More importantly, this dress,” she fingered the gauzy material. “This love tradition ha led you to your perfect man.”

A groan came from low in her throat. “Yeah who I then crushed with lies and deception and who will never speak to me again.”

“Felicity...I'm sorry. If you want to talk about it you know I'm here.”

When she felt tears begin to threaten and her throat tightening she jumped up and began to pace. Having something to do had always seemed to calm her.

“How do you feel?”

She debated on answering her. Lyla would never judge her and only offered her a means of venting, to get rid of some of her pent up emotion.

“Guilty,” she admitted. “Ashamed, heartbroken.”

“Well maybe then-”

But it was like the dam had burst and she couldn't stop running right over her friends words.

“Depressed, awful, angry.”

“I totally get it-”

“Lonely, sad, frustrated.” Plopping down into a kitchen chair she pulled up her knees and rested her chin on them. “Wistful, anxious, scummy. Not all in that order though.” She stuck her hand into a bag of yogurt raisins and dropped a few in her mouth.

“Have you tried calling him?”

“No,” she said around another mouthful of the snack.

“Tried contacting him any other way?”

“What's the point, further humiliation? Not to mention cutting open an already deep wound.”

“I bet he misses you just as much as you miss him.”

Felicity scoffed as she opened a jar of pickles and drew one out. “His phone still works and he hasn't called me, and I don't expect him too.” She bit into the green food, her nose wrinkling up at the sour tang on her tongue.

“Stress eating will accomplish nothing but making your bridesmaid dress tight.”

“It doesn't count as stress eating until I've downed a pint or two of Mint Chip. Don't worry I'll do twenty on the elliptical.”

“Felicity you should-”

“Please Lyla,” she pleaded. “Can we just let it go, talk about something else? The wedding perhaps, it's in seven days.”

“Yeah...I guess so.” She could see her friend was hesitant to let the subject drop and it meant a lot to Felicity that she cared so much, but if she was ever going to get over what had happened it meant that she couldn't spend her time moping over something she couldn't change.

The next hours were Oliver free talks as they focused on double checking the wedding list. By the time Lyla left that afternoon every detail of her coming nuptials finalized Felicity felt more herself and at her friends urging went to the gym. A couple hours pounding a punching bag might do her some good.

 

* * *

 

 

After Felicity had left he went to the library and stayed there. Oliver couldn't stand the thought of being in the room they'd shared. He even thought about going back to Starling City but knew that even though he didn't know where that she was there too. Probably even writing her story as he sat in his Dad's old office chair. He hoped it gave her what she wanted, she'd already destroyed him so it couldn't get much worse. But he knew that it could and most likely would.

His Mother had tried to speak with him but he'd begged off, telling her he needed some time. Tommy had disappeared, angry with himself no doubt. Thea had sat with him a while in silence, just lending her presence. In the mood he'd been in he didn't really care if Laurel had fallen off a cliff. Yes, she'd told him the truth but it wasn't out of caring about his family, it was for her own gain. She'd said that she missed him, pretty much admitted she wanted him back and when she couldn't have what she desired she did what she did best, destroyed anything and anyone in her path. If only he'd listened to his sisters warning about her in the beginning. He might have avoided all of this.

That night he slept in his room. The couch was doing his back no favors and he couldn't avoid admitting the physical and emotional pain he was feeling. The bed felt empty, he felt empty. Just twenty four hours previously he'd felt lighter than he had in years, actually hoping for a future and in that span of time it had unraveled right before his eyes. A happy story slipping right through his fingers like water. He couldn't think straight, sleep or eat and it was all because of a blonde reporter who'd both made his heart beat again and shattered it into a million pieces.

That's why late into the next day he found himself walking the garden path on the way to the gazebo. Despite how cold it was he couldn't feel it, his whole body was numb. He'd hoped some fresh air might do him good but so far all it had accomplished was making him more lonely. He forced away the thought of the stroll he and Felicity had taken on the same path as soon as it surfaced. Once he reached the gazebo that overlooked the frozen pond he placed his elbows on the rail and somehow managed to turn off his brain.

He didn't know how long he'd been staring off into oblivion when footsteps startled him. He turned, dismayed when he saw who'd invaded his private time. "What to you want Laurel?" He snapped, his voice sounding tired.

“Please don't be mad at me Ollie,” Laurel said, stepping closer but still behind him. “I had to find the truth about Felicity...” She placed a hand on his arm. “Because I still care about you. I did what I did out of love. I love you Oliver.”

“Love?” He asked, shell shocked.

“Yes love,” she said softly staring into his eyes before leaning up to kiss him. He immediately and none too easily pull away from her grasp.

“Are we that interchangeable to you Laurel? You're engaged to my best friend yet you have the audacity to say that you love me. I'm not sure you even know what love is let alone feel it for another person but yourself.”

“Oliver you don't understand...I made a mistake, I never should have said yes. I panicked.” Laurel latched onto his hand and it took everything in him not to push it away. “It's been you, it has always been you.”

Once upon a time he would've dreamed of her saying that, fell right back into her arms. But if there was one thing that this whole ordeal, Felicity had taught him was that he deserved more than what Laurel could give him.

“You've always liked games Laurel, my father didn't and that's why he rejected you.” Laurel gasped, dropping his hand. “Lets be clear, I don't either. You and me, we're done.” He threw his head to the exit of the gazebo. “You need to leave, now because I'm going to tell Tommy the truth and when I do your last chance at being a billionaires wife will be gone...forever.”

And this time, he walked away only for an icy sting in his back to make him round. Laurel stood there, her hand still wet from the snowball she'd thrown, probably at his head. She was clearly outraged.

“You do not walk away from me,” she seethed. “After everything that we've been through, after everything that I've done for you?” Her color was high and her hands were balled into fist.

He laughed sardonically. “That's kind of the problem Laurel.”

She screamed, grabbing another snowball and lobbing it at him. “I hate you!”

“Wait...but you just told me you loved me and you're engaged to my brother so which one is it?”

“That's a good question,” a familiar voice added, stepping out from behind a pine tree and making himself known.

Laurel jumped, whipping around to face her fiancé. “Oh shut up Tommy! You're just dating me to get back at him,” she snapped pulling off her engagement ring and throwing it into the snow. Guess it was ex-fiancé now. “Like I would marry a nightclub owner.”

Then she was stomping away, Tommy not even giving her a second glance. “I'll call you a cab,” he tossed over his shoulder as he meandered his way over to the spot she'd tossed the ring and began searching. Oliver leaned down to help him.

“I should have said something earlier,” he said after a few minutes.

Tommy shook his head. “How would you know that I was gonna fall for your ex and then spring it on you like an absolute idiot? It's not your fault. I knew the person Laurel was but I dated her anyways.” He finished, drying his hands on his jacket. “Just forget it, we'll never find it.”

That didn't keep him from continuing on. “Keep looking.”

Tommy did with a sigh. “Remember when we were kids and we used to look for reindeer tracks?”

“Yeah and that year we found some,” Oliver answered.

“And they were Christmas magic.”

“Could use some of that now.” His hands were starting to freeze.

“No kidding. You know it was Walter who made those tracks right?”

Oliver laughed. “Of course, he dressed up as Santa too.” He saw something sparkling in the sun and picked it up. “Guess there's some magic left over after all.”

Tommy smiled, “Thanks, man.”

“What are you two doing down there?” Walter appeared up the hill a ways.

“Finding diamonds in the snow,” Oliver answered.

“Delightful,” the man drawled, lifting an envelope to his chest. “This just came for you. It's from a Lyla Michaels, Felicity's friend. Priority Mail.”

Walter offered the envelope to him and he took it, confused as why Felicity's friend would send him a letter. His brows drew together as he opened the slit and pulled out a thick card. It was a wedding invitation. Was this Lyla woman trying to tell him something? The only way she would know about him is if Felicity told her... He was even more confused now.

“What it is Oliver?”

He slid the invitation back inside its envelope. “Nothing.”

Because that's exactly what it was.

 

* * *

 

 


	10. You Are My Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end. I want to thank everyone who read, commented, and gave kudos on this story. I really appreciate it. I know I could have made this story last a little bit longer but I decided to wrap it up neatly. I can't seem to write like I used to so I'm just glad I finished it at all. I love you all, hopefully I will be back with another story soon. XO-Sara

* * *

 

 “Say that again?” Sebastian demanded, leaning forward in his desk chair. Starting her holiday weekend by coming into the office bright and early was not her idea of fun. She would have liked nothing more than to delay the inevitable but it was better this way. Cooper was like a bloodhound on a trail and she couldn't let him get to the boss first.

Felicity took a deep breath before she continued. “I am not giving up any information on the Queen's or Merlyn.”

“I don't understand, that the whole reason you went up there,” the man said, his voice rising as well as his face color.

“Yes...I know.” Boy did she know.

“So let me get this straight, you're going to forfeit the promotion because you don't want to give up dirt on a bunch of spoiled, rich, celebrity politicals?”

“They're not like that Sebastian,” she protested. “They're wonderful people who just get the worst of the spotlight. They don't deserve for their private life to be dug into, not at this time of year or ever.”

“I don't care,” he yelled. “You used not to either. I've known Moira Queen for years and if I say the family's fair game then it is. You don't get a say.”

“That's where you're wrong Sebastian. I've always cared about finding the truth, it's the whole reason I became a reporter. I loved my job so much that I lost myself in it and I gave up fighting for what I believed in. But it's not right what we're reporting. People need the truth, not a version of it. I'm done compromising.”

“You're walking a very thin line Felicity.”

“So are you! I don't understand why this is so important. So what if Meryln got engaged. It's not that great of a story.”

“It is when the same woman dated Meryln's best friend and his father.”

“Laurel didn't date the father,” she defended.

“That's only details,” Sebastian sat back, a grin playing on his lips.

“Yeah a detail that's a ball faced lie.”

“Robert can't contest it now can he?”

And then she saw it, the gleam in his eye. This was all some kind of retaliation at the Queen family disguised as a career investment opportunity. How could someone be so evil as to accuse a dead man of something so awful? Why had she ever worked for the snake.

Sebastian interrupted her thoughts. “This story could be enough to launch us online, which means this company's employee's get to keep their jobs. So what's more important to you Felicity...protecting some rich snobs or people's well being. It's all in your hands.”

Felicity looked away. He knew just how to get to her. She had friends that worked alongside her, people that all desperately needed their job to take care of themselves and their families. But wasn't it better to take a risk than to give up without a fight?

“So what do you say Felicity?” He said, the ultimatum clear.

Given the circumstance there was only one thing to say. “I quit.”

 

* * *

 

“So...what are you going to do now?” Felicity glanced over her shoulder at Roy, who was leaning against a cubicle wall watching her gather her things, putting them into a cardboard box-something she'd never thought she'd have to do.

“I don't know,” she lifted the box and turned around. “But celebrity gossip is not it. You know I've always been good with computers, maybe there's something there.”

“Well wherever you end up promise me you'll steal me away, at twice the salary would be awesome too, just so you know.” She smiled, placing her purse on her shoulder. “On a serious note. I've known you for a long time Felicity and you don't just give your heart to anyone. Queen must have been worth it.”

She sucked in a breath. “He is-was. It doesn't matter now. The story will find a way to get out, they'll assume I'm the source and hate me even more.”

Roy's brow furrowed in thought. “But who is the source? Think about it...,” he trailed off, looking somewhere behind her.

“Roy, what is it...” Then she spotted her. Laurel Lance was walking with her slime of an ex, heading straight towards Sebastian's office, both smirking as they passed by them.

Felicity huffed and shook her head. “Should have known. Especially after Oliver told me of his suspicions that she was leaking things to the press.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Sebastian welcomed Cooper and Laurel at the door, drawing them into his office.

“There's only one thing I can do...”

“What's that?”

“Warn them.”

 

* * *

 

  
The wound Felicity had left was still throbbing, though at Laurel's departure the pain had lessened. Tommy and him weren't quite on firm footing yet but they were on their way, he had faith their friendship would grow stronger for the trial they'd been through. Still he couldn't find a smile in him, not for lack of his sister's trying. His family had noticed his melancholy-how could they not, and did their best to drag him from it. But it wasn't that simple. He'd thought he had loved Laurel only to learn that the feelings he'd had was just infatuation. Real love was more than just attraction to an outer shell. Love was finding someone beautiful for their soul, for what filled them and made them whole. He'd felt that way about Felicity...but one thing that was an absolute must for loving someone was being able to trust them. He'd thought he could but she'd proved him wrong.

It was mid-afternoon when he went into the kitchen to deposit his empty coffee cup, he'd promised Thea to watch _'A Christmas Story'_ with her and was on his way to the living room when he heard the doorbell ring. He made his way to the portal and what he found on the other side knocked the wind out of him.

“Oliver...,” she breathed and he noticed that she looked thinner, paler. How was that possible when she'd only been out of his life mere days. He hadn't looked in the mirror but he was sure his own reflection would mark a change in him as well. And wasn't that just ironic. “Just give me five minutes.”

He'd been willing to give her the rest of his life, but she'd betrayed him.

“Please, I know you don't owe me anything...but this is bigger than me and you. This affects your family...so please. Five minutes.”

He closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose. “Fine,” he forced out, his tone irate. The sad part was that he wasn't so mad at her at the moment as he was at himself. About how all he'd wanted to do was wrap her arms around her and never let her leave. How he wanted to forgive her, start over and have a life with her. But it was too late for all of that. Trust had been broken, in the same way Laurel had done and he wouldn't go down that road again. This time he knew better.

Opening the door a little wider he let her in and led her to the living room. Thea was already there munching on a bowl of popcorn, Tommy beside her.

“Oh good man, your favorite part is coming up,” his friend said, tossing back a hand full of M&M's which he nearly choked on when he saw who was behind him. Thea whacked him on the back a few times, her own expression surprised.

“Thea,” Felicity trailed off, his sister gave her a small smile which caused a similar one to break out of hers. “This concerns your whole family so...” 

“I'll get them,” Tommy offered, shooting up off the couch leaving an awkward silence to fill the room.

“Umm... why don't you take a seat Felicity,” Thea broke past the tension.

“Thank you.” Felicity sat down, crossing her legs and placing a hand on her knee. He could practically see the nerves wracking her small frame. Whatever she'd come here to tell them must be important. The drive from Starling wasn't a short one.

His Mom and Walter entered the room then, Tommy following behind. They all took their own seats, preparing themselves for whatever Felicity had to say.

The blonde cleared her throat. “I wish I didn't come bearing bad news...but then again I guess I wouldn't be here at all if I wasn't. You know cause the whole-”

“Felicity,” Thea stopped her babble before it could begin. Felicity tossed her a grateful smile.

“Right. The reason I came here is to warn you that there is a story about your family in the works, so you might be prepared as best you can. Laurel is now Pulse's lead source on your family and she is claiming that she had an affair...with Robert Queen and that he was going to to give her shares of Queen Consolidated before his death.”

Thea gasped. “But they don't have any proof for any of those allegations.”

Felicity shook her head sadly. “They don't need any Thea.”

“Then we should threaten legal action,” Tommy spoke up.

It wouldn't matter if they sued the whole company. The damage would be done. He said as much to the group.

“What are we gonna do Mom? We can't let them tarnish Dad's memory,” Thea pleaded, her eyes shining with tears.

“Don't worry Thea,” Walter soothed, patting her hand before grabbing the telephone and quickly dialing a number, much to everyone's confusion. The other line picked up. “Sebastian Blood? Please hold for Moira Queen.”

Oliver saw Felicity stiffen at the sound of her boss's name and he had a fleeting moment of sympathy at the look there. She'd no doubt been reamed out by her boss for not giving further details on their family.

His mothers voice caught his attention and he turned to see that she had the phone pressed to her ear. He focused on the part of the conversation he could hear.

“Hello Sebastian...yes it has been awhile...well of course I remember, I remember everything. Listen Sebastian, I'm calling to give you a bit of scoop. A few days ago I instructed my attorneys to begin the process of buying Pulse,” she paused, looking to Felicity. “Our mutual friend Felicity Smoak spoke so highly of you and your team. Oh she what..” his mother gasped. “She no longer works for Pulse? Well we have to get her back. I have some ideas on how she could fit into a new incarnation of our company.”

Oliver glanced to Felicity, who was twisting a ring on her finger, clearly uncomfortable. Had she been fired...or had she quit? Either way she'd come to warn them and even though he couldn't trust her he was at least thankful for that.

“Which brings me to another point,” his mother went on. “It seems you have a story that Laurel Lance contributed to? That's not really in our best interest. Wouldn't you agree? Good. Look forward to seeing you Sebastian,” Moira finished, making a face as she handed the phone back to Walter.

“I...I don't understand,” Felicity stuttered, addressing Moira.

“I had Walter look into you after you arrived,” she confessed.

Felicity glanced at Walter then back to his mother. “So...you've...”

“Known exactly who you are, practically from the start? Yes.”

What? “Why didn't you say anything?” Oliver questioned, quite shocked at the turn of events.

“To be honest we were curious where this,” she gestured to him and Felicity, “Was going, weren't we Walter?”

“Very curious,” the man agreed.

“I decided to take a proactive role in preventing any possible story from being released.”

“You are diabolical Mrs. Q,” Tommy exclaimed making them all laugh, save for him and Felicity. “You're really gonna buy a gossip rag?”

Moira laughed. “I am. Though a change in a more positive direction may be in order.”

Felicity face was no longer muddled as she sent her a knowing look. “You deliberately told me about what Laurel did.”

“Of course. If you made a move to publish what I told you in confidence then I'd know you couldn't be trusted...if you didn't then I'd know you could.”

Felicity smiled for the first time since she'd been there, real and full blown. “I thought you said you were a firm believer in things working out as they should?”

“Oh I am,” Moira shrugged. “It doesn't mean that I can't give them an occasional shove every now and again.”

While everyone shared a smile he was left wondering about what he should be feeling. Angry, hurt, betrayed? All of the above? His mother had known all along but she'd let him continue with the ruse. For what? Idle curiosity? She also gave vital private information to a stranger that just so happened to be a reporter, as some kind of test. What did that say about his mother other than she was more tactical than he gave her credit for.

Moira had proven something though and that it was Felicity was trustworthy...but he still wasn't sure if she was worthy of his trust. That's why when a moment later after his mother asked her to join them for dinner he didn't publicly favor the idea. The feeling must have showed because Felicity turned down the offer, stating that she should really be getting back to Starling.

Before she left however she pulled an envelope from her bag and extended it to him. “Please don't hate me for this,” she said before taking leave from his life once again.

The envelope sat unopened in his hands for a long time before curiosity got the better of him and he opened it. It couldn't be....how had she? Those thoughts ran through him as his eyes scanned the documents. They were from a John Diggle, expressing interest in meeting with him about his boats, that he was very impressed with the designs and might be interested in a partnership.

“What is it,” Thea prompted.

Finally he turned to face his family, it was time to tell the truth.

“Mom...there's something I need to tell you. I-” He broke off, not knowing where to begin.

“It's okay Oliver,” his Mom stopped him. “I know...”

“What? But how-” _Did she know everything?_

“You've always loved boats, even your father dying on one didn't diminish that love. You've done a wonderful job with Queen Consolidated but I know business is not really in your wheelhouse. It's important to me Oliver that you know what makes me happy...is what makes you happy.”

“I second that,” Thea piped up and he couldn't help but smile at the show of the support.

“So does this mean you're not going to be going into politics now?”

He laughed for the first time in days. “Who's to say Tommy. I have a lot to consider.”

“Wait, was that an actual positive non-broody comment from you? Someone call the papers, this is a huge headline.”

“Mom are you sure you're okay with this?”

“Completely Oliver, besides I'd like nothing more than to be able to brag about my son the shipbuilder.”

“I'm sure there's a better title than that Mom.”

“What do I know about boats?”

“I'll teach you,” he offered and she rose to hug him.

“I'm so very proud of you Oliver, no matter what you decide. Remember that.” Moira stepped back, her hands gripping his shoulders. “There's one more thing, rather person we should discuss, who happens to be very blonde, makes you happy; and is driving away at this very moment.”

He sighed. “Felicity is a reporter Mom, one who was only after a story.”

“Oh Oliver, if you were just a story then she would have written it.”

The flutter of his heart reminded him that what he and Felicity had shared, though based on a lie had been real. The feelings...all real. But could he get over what she'd done? The possibility of a future with her seemed so far away. Was it possible to fall in love with someone and out in such a quick span of time? No...you didn't fall out of love, you chose to stop loving someone and despite his desires his heart hadn't got the memo. The real question was...could he trust his heart? And could he entrust it with the woman that had broken it in the first place?

 

* * *

 

The day of her best friends wedding came and thankfully with it mild weather. The wedding went off without a hitch, every planned detail coming together perfectly. Little Sara had been an amazing flower girl, the toddler giggling as she came towards her with a cry of 'Aunt Felicity' that had sent the guest off into chuckles. Lyla had looked beautiful as she walked down the aisle to a waiting Diggle who'd practically been hopping with excitement, love practically shining from every pore. She hadn't been able to stop herself from crying during the ceremony, whether it was from happiness for her friend or the fact that she'd had someone who looked at her like that and she'd screwed it up.

Instead of wallowing in her sadness further she put on a happy front and made her rounds at the wedding. Keeping her eye on her niece while making sure the bride, groom and other guests were well taken care of by the staff and caterers. A lull came where there wasn't anything left for her to do, no one to check on and her mind started to wander. It had been days since she'd last seen Oliver and she wished she would have at least said a proper goodbye, a very selfish desire on her part seeing as he didn't want to see her at all. But she missed him, so much. Her body yearned for him, his smile, his touch. At the thought her throat tightened and she could feel tears threatening again. No, she would not cry. It was over, it was done with and she needed to move on. No matter if she could still feel his lips against hers, his stubble scraping her cheeks, and his warms fingers pressing into her flesh every time she closed her eyes.

A deep sigh escaped her as she turned to watch the newly married couple taking a turn around the dance floor, their arms around one another as if they were afraid to let go. That was what true love looked like. It was easy to get lost in the vision in front of her, so much so that she didn't feel someone come to stand beside her.

“They make a beautiful couple,” the person said jolting her into reality.

“They do,” she readily agreed, turning with a smile that froze immediately upon seeing who stood beside her. “Oliver...”

How had she not recognized his voice? It was practically ingrained in her. Maybe it was because she'd been hearing it everywhere, in the man that called across the street for his wife, the mailman that greeted her the morning before, and the barista at her favorite coffee shop. But this...having him right in front of her was so much better than her imagination could ever conjure up. There he stood, less than three feet away wearing a gray suit jacket with matching slacks, and a tie that matched the color of his eyes perfectly. His stubble was grown out to that perfect length again whereas a few days prior he'd been nearly clean shaven. The sigh that escaped her couldn't be helped.

“Hi,” she said, sounding more like breathy prayer to her own ears.

“Hi,” he returned, a small smile on his face. Her senses came back to her then. If he was here...did that mean- and wait how did he even know she was here? She watched as his mouth began to form words and she wondered if her thoughts had been spoken aloud. Still she was the still the same motor mouth, something that was proven with her next words.

“What are you doing here?” She suddenly blurted, cutting off whatever he was going to say. Pressing her lips together she sucked in a breath through her nose. “Sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound so rude, obviously you have every right to be here though I don't know why you would you don't even know Lyla or Diggle, though you could I guess though it would be very-”

“Felicity,” Oliver called and she stopped, face flushing. He shook his head and pulled a card from his jacket: a wedding invitation. No she didn't. “I got this a few days ago.”

“She didn't...”

“She did,” Oliver laughed. “And as for knowing them I don't, unless talking over the phone with Diggle counts.”

“You talked to Digg?” She asked in disbelief. He'd asked her to deliver the letter to Oliver when he'd found out she was going to visit him but she hadn't known what was inside it. “Did he like your designs?”

“He more than liked them...he offered me a partnership; and that's all thanks to you Felicity.”

Felicity fiddled with her fingers, doing her best to not get her hopes up. He seemed to be attempting to extend a olive branch and she didn't want to say anything that might mess that up. “No, that was all you Oliver. Your dream. What I did, everything I did...I broke your trust, and not only by sending those and I'm sorr-”  Her words died in her throat as she caught a look in his blue eyes, his thumb was rubbing against the skin of her elbow when he spoke.

“Please...don't apologize. If anyone should, that would me. I was a complete and total jerk. I didn't even give you a chance to explain before I kicked you out into the snow.”

“Well at least I had appropriate clothes this time around.” He didn't laugh like she thought he would. “Oliver, you don't owe me anything. I lied, simple as that, and ruined the trust that don't give easily. I came into your family with every intention of spilling your secrets for a stupid promotion...all I could think about was keeping my department going, but after meeting you, well the lines started to blur and I didn't know what way was up until I suddenly did. I promise you that I had made the decision to not write the story way before Laurel blew my cover. I couldn't do that to your family,or to you not when I lov-” She choked on the word, hoping against hope that he didn't know where she was going with the sentence.  
  
Oliver's face was neutral as he stared back at her, his eyes probing hers. Eventually he stepped closer and took her hand. “Felicity, it took me some time, but I know now that though you may have lied to me, you're not a liar. You're a woman that I would trust with my life, my dreams, and aspirations. You're everything I've never knew I wanted and I almost threw it all away because I was scared...”

“Scared of what?” Her head tilted to the side.

“When I met you Felicity... I lost something that I didn't even know I still had left to lose.”

“What's that?”

“My heart.”

Speaking of hearts, her own stopped. “Your heart?”

“I thought I knew what love meant....but love isn't about being perfect. It's about trying, loving someone for their imperfections, their mistakes; being there to support them, not control them. Most importantly it's forgiveness and understanding. I never understood those things because I never wanted to offer them to anyone, until-”

“You met me?” She asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” he paused, letting out a breath. “Felicity I forgive you...because somewhere along the way in our fake story I fell in love with you for real. I can't imagine my life without you, so that leads me to this: can you ever forgive me for letting you go?”

His name was all she could get out before her arms were around him, her face buried in his neck. “Of course I forgive you, how could I- wait.” She pulled back. “Did you say you fell in love with me?”

His answering grin was huge. “Felicity Smoak, I love you, I'm in love with you.”

Her hand came up to cover her mouth, tears forming and threatening to spill. “Are you sure? I mean I was just a reporter looking for a story and-” Her stepped into her space, his hands moving to her waist, looping around her back. 

Oliver leaned close. “And you found one...now it just needs an ending.”

Could it be as simple as that? She knew she loved him. It wasn't something she couldn't control, but telling him was a completely different story. Though he had forgiven her she still felt it hard to believe that he loved her; _her_ , Felicity Smoak. But looking into his eyes now, shining with what she could only compare to what she saw when Diggle gazed at Lyla...she believed it. With that revelation she couldn't keep it in anymore.

“Oliver...I love you.”

And then his lips were on hers, reminiscent of that night under the mistletoe only a hundred times better, and this time she didn't hold back. There was nothing stopping her from wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers combing through the short strands of his hair. His hold on her waist tightened, lifting her closer as he deepened the kiss. Everything and everyone disappeared around them, the world ceasing to exist outside of them in the moment.

After what could have been minutes or hours they both pulled back, but only by a few inches, Oliver's nose nuzzling hers, both smiling like mad people as he tugged her onto the dance floor. Lyla shot her a look over Digg's shoulder, her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She shook her head at her friends meddling and mouthed a 'thank you.'

When her attention turned back to Oliver she caught him staring at her. “What?”

“I'm just really happy,” he explained, a softness in his expression she'd never seen before.

At his words she felt it. The knot that had formed in her chest over years of heartbreak and disappointment finally unraveled. “Me too,” she replied, laying her head on his chest, both swaying to the slow ballad.  
  
“Is it too late to ask you to spend Christmas with me Snow Bride,” Oliver whispered in her ear. The nickname caught her attention and she smacked him lightly.

“Never Just Oliver,” she retorted. His chest rumbled under her ear with his laughter.

“That's good, cause if I came back without you Thea would have killed me.”

She pulled back, looking up into his face. “Really?”

Oliver eyes crinkled in the corners. “Mmhmm, she gave me quite the tongue lashing.”

“Hmm, well you can be quite stubborn. Remind me to thank her.”

“No one ever said I was the brains of the relationship.”

“Oh relationship is it?” She asked, smiling growing.

“Is that all you got from that?” He teased, much like when their whole ruse had started.

“Nope, I heard that I was smart in there somewhere.”

“Not denying that.”

“And that you loved me a lot.” He kissed her temple before laying his forehead against the spot, holding her closer. “As much as I love you.”

No more words were needed after that, just being there with each other was enough, as it was for years to come. Over that time they grew together, learning to love all the little details about one another, celebrating each others holidays. There were long talks, laughter, smiles, fights and makeups...like Oliver had said love wasn't perfect. But their commitment to one another was strong, the trials making it even more so. They both knew they were meant for one another, time only bringing more evidence to the fact.

One year and four months later Oliver asked her to marry him, getting down on one knee and opening a red velvet box. Felicity hadn't even seen the ring before she'd shouted 'Yes' and joined him on her knees, kissing him fervently. They hadn't waited long before they'd made it official, both more than ready to call the other 'wife' and 'husband'.

Their jobs changed too. Felicity had hoped to just run her own department but as it turned out she got the whole company. She couldn't have been happier to turn it back to its former glory with the aid of her sister-in-law who had many creative ideas. Somewhere during it all Oliver and Diggle had started their partnership, and from it came a friendship heavy with respect for each other and with that three families turned into one big one.

Two years after Oliver and Felicity's marriage little Sara got the playmate Lyla had wanted in the form of a little boy, born with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Oliver insisted that they were Felicity's while she insisted that they were his. They had eventually agreed to disagree. The same argument was made when their daughter was born a few years later.

Many people believed there were no such thing as happy stories, it was easy to see why anyone would, after all bad things happened. But Oliver and Felicity took everything that came at them in stride, because love was about weathering the storms together, just like they did everything else.

Oliver and Felicity had started their story...and though the end was yet to be written, if you asked either of them they'd tell you no matter what, that it was happy.

 

* * *

 

 

 


End file.
